


devil's got us all in his pockets

by PolzkaDotz



Series: october madness [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Constantine (2005) Fusion, Andrew Minyard is dead, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demonic Possession, Drowning, Emotional Constipation, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Implied Murder, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mind the tags people, Minor Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Violence, electric chairs, if i forgot to tag anything TELL ME, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2020-12-28 06:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolzkaDotz/pseuds/PolzkaDotz
Summary: Heaven and Hell had made a wager long ago. No direct influence from both sides, but they could use half-demons and half-angels to do their dirty work. Who had more souls at the end won.To say Neil Josten was baffled when he opened his door and found his boyfriend's twin brother there, telling him that Andrew was dead would be an understatement. Neil couldn't agree with Aaron when he said, "There was no way that Andrew would kill himself". But the fact that Aaron was surrounded by lower demons right after saying that?Suspicious, to say the last.Neil couldn't care less about Aaron, to be honest though. He just wanted to rain his revenge on whoever was responsible for Andrew's death. And if he ended up saving the Earth along the way, it wasfuckingunintentional.(No Constantine knowledge required)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
First of all, people, YEAH, MIND THOSE TAGS, BUT DO REMEMBER THAT I DONT DO ANGST WITHOUT HAPPY ENDING, ALRIGHT? GOTTA TRUST ME.  
Also, I wont exactly follow the Constantine plot, as made evident by the BIG PLOT DIVERGENCE. This is because i wanted to explore Aaron and Neil's relationship in a different way. Idk if it's gonna work  
thirdly, this was brilliantly and kindly betaed by [foxy-exy](http://foxy-exy.tumblr.com) (also known as [ihaveacleverfandomurl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaveacleverfandomurl) here on ao3). THANK YOU FOR STAYING UP LATE WITH ME, LOVE  
hope you enjoy it?  
sHIT forgot to say that the title is from Framing Hanley's "Puzzle Pieces"

Death knocked on everybody’s door, sooner or later, regardless of their feelings about the mortal condition. Sinner, believer, saint or demonic, every creature on this bitch of an Earth would have to answer that knock when Death finally came to them. 

Except for, like, shrimp, you know? Neil had seen a shrimp on TV that could grow forever and didn’t seem to die from old age—just from sickness or by the hands (or mouths) of others. There was also that jellyfish that was able to revert to its kid state if it got hurt, healing itself and continuing its growth to adulthood. 

These two freaks were technically creatures from God or something, but Neil had his doubts. If it was confirmed that God created them, Neil would feel entitled to find God and just Rage, you know? 

Assuming that Neil would be allowed into Heaven. There wasn’t anything to stop him from getting in, _technically. _Neil had never committed a sin like some people that were in his industry. Even with his shitty childhood and the even shittier hand he’d been dealt in life. 

And Neil wasn’t dead yet. Anything could tempt him. He was human, after all. 

And Fate had an interesting way of testing Neil’s current clean bill of sins. 

* * *

He wasn’t thinking about Death when he answered his door after coming back home from a routine Exorcism—the kind of stuff Neil could do with his eyes closed. Yeah, it was one of those where the girl had crawled up the walls, but at least Neil didn’t have to _kill her_. So, a win. Technically. 

Neil startled with the knock but honestly? It wasn’t unusual that people from across the world came knocking on his door, expecting him to solve all their problems, usually with the wrong idea about what he actually did. People called him a Satanist, an Occultist. Witch. Sinner. Once, he was called Heretic, which really brought him a few centuries back. 

But Neil didn’t turn people away. When he’d had troubles with the occult, when he saw things, people had helped him. Better yet, people had _saved him_ when he’d needed it. 

So he did the same. 

Sir looked at him for a few seconds and then mewled when Neil didn’t automatically go answer the door so the knocking would stop. Neil looked at her, gauged how tired he was and sighed. He sort of had enough energy to deal with people, but his mood was currently on thin ice. All he wanted was to get inside his bathroom, take a quick shower to rid himself of the grime of an Exorcism and then fucking _sleep_, y’know? 

Nonetheless, he went to the fucking door and opened it. 

Neil automatically smiled at the face that was on the other side. Andrew had been absent for a long, long time, but there he was_, finally_. He’d probably gotten a haircut because his hair looked weird and he also must have been dealing with some Brazilians again—he wasn’t wearing his trademark black clothes and the only time Neil had seen him using another color was when he did business with people inside a Candomblé meeting. 

Neil opened his mouth to—greet him, be a nuisance, just antagonize the shit out of his boyfriend—but something stopped him. 

With a jostle, Neil suddenly just _knew_; that wasn’t Andrew. 

His smile died instantly. 

“Andrew never told me he had a twin brother,” Neil told the stranger frostily as he frowned. 

The stranger frowned back but seemed surprised enough not to say anything for a few seconds. Apparently, they weren’t used to people being able to tell them apart. 

“Andrew didn’t know he had a twin brother until a few years back,” the stranger said and his voice sounded familiar but also _wrong_. Neil wouldn’t lie, it was a little bit of a mindfuck to _see_ his boyfriend in front of him and not feel even a little bit excited—it felt like meeting an alien pretending to be the person you loved. “Can we come in? We have to talk about Andrew.” 

“We?” Neil asked and then another guy stepped from the corridor to stand behind Not Andrew. The new guy was taller than both Neil and Not Andrew (which... wasn’t that difficult) and his eyes were almost swollen shut. _Someone _had been crying _really _hard. “Oh. Well… come on in, I guess.” 

The stranger squatted to get something from the ground and that was when Neil noticed the carrier and the fluffy tail pressed against the bars that told him they had King with them. Which was weird because Andrew never let anyone take King from his house. King went where _Andrew _wanted her to, which was fine by King’s standards—she really didn’t like to be far away from him. 

King hissed from inside the carrier as Not Andrew brought her inside and his friend followed, both of them making themselves comfortable on Neil’s couch. King made it as clear as possible that she wasn’t happy about her current situation. The stranger put King on the ground and Neil immediately knelt in front of it to free her. 

“I wouldn’t recommend doing that…” 

“Shut up, this is my cat.” 

“Uhhh,” the taller stranger said and sniffed before continuing. “It used to be Andrew’s cat.” 

Neil opened his mouth to automatically snap at the guy and then he froze. “_Used to be_?” 

King came out of the open carrier to almost scale Neil’s body, trying to get on to his shoulder, meowing miserably as she obviously asked to be comforted. 

Neil’s stomach dropped to his shoes as he looked at Not Andrew’s face and his companion. It was nowhere near ‘good news’ faces. King’s reaction to Neil was also incredibly worrying. She didn’t hate Neil, but she never showed her distress to him as clearly as this. 

Deep down, Neil already knew what they were going to say. But that didn’t mean the punch hurt less when it landed. 

“Andrew is dead,” the stranger wearing Andrew’s face said, and Neil stared deep into his eyes, just… not getting it. Andrew was the most powerful psychic Neil knew. He knew how to fight. He defended his personal space like an angry badger. He couldn’t just_… die_. “The investigation is currently pointing towards suicide, but I just know that Andrew wouldn’t—” 

“Then you don’t know anything at all,” Neil interrupted him, even though he wasn’t really _there_. Neil was currently just a body that King clung to. Neil was just someone who used to know Andrew’s sins, front and backwards. Neil was currently trying very hard to be nothing. “No matter how much you think you know about someone and their life, they can still kill themselves.” 

The stranger scowled, and it was _wrong, wrong, wrong. _His mouth didn’t twitch in exasperation as Neil clearly tried to annoy him. He didn’t look at Neil with inexpressive eyes that were the safest pool Neil had ever jumped in. 

The stranger was as much of _nothing_ as Neil was. Mainly because he had the dressings that Neil trusted and _nothing_ of the person. It felt like all the lies Neil had ever said coming back to hurt him. 

“He said your name in the footage before…” The stranger looked at his companion who had suddenly hiccuped. “... jumping from the roof of his mental health facility.” 

Even though he’d heard him, Neil couldn’t believe what the stranger was saying. Andrew wouldn’t be sent to any facility without first finding a way to tell Neil where he’d be. Yes, it had been roughly three months since they’ve talked, but that was _normal _for them. Sometimes, they just were too busy to talk. 

Also, suicide…? Already one of Andrew’s sins. Why would he repeat it? 

Neil’s brain simply wasn’t connecting _shit_ that was happening. 

“And what do you want me to do about it?” It took Neil a few seconds to understand that it had been _him_ who’d spoken. 

“We want explanations,” the stranger said in a tone that implied it was obvious. “Why did he say your name before jumping?” 

“Probably because we were together,” Neil said and he wished he had the mental capacity to appreciate the way that Not Andrew’s eyes went wider than Neil had ever seen in that face and the other stranger apparently choked on his own tears or something. “Also, because his death probably had something to do with the Occult and finding me was the best way to guarantee it would be properly looked into.” 

Not Andrew’s face instantly closed off, looking more furious than Neil had ever thought those features were capable of looking. At least, more furious than Neil had ever seen them. 

And now, probably the angriest he was ever going to be able to see them being for a long time. Maybe forever. 

“_Of course_ you are as crazy as Andrew was,” Not Andrew growled and bolted up with a violent jerk that brought him too close to Neil’s face, his anger almost _palpable _before he got his balance back and ran out of Neil’s apartment, banging the door as he went. Neil watched the door for a few seconds, putting a comforting hand on King’s back when she mewled quietly. 

All of the lights in Neil’s apartment flickered for a few seconds before normalizing. 

“Well…” Neil said in a dry voice. “I can only imagine how Andrew reacted to this guy.” 

“Yeah… Aaron and Andrew didn’t get along very well,” The guy who was still kind of crying laughed weakly (wetly) at Neil, who didn’t even _look_ at him. King gave another incredibly sad, louder meow and Sir jumped on Neil’s lap to nose at her sister. Even Sir seemed to be worried. 

How do you tell your cat that her other owner would never come back? 

Unfortunately, Neil doubted there was an actual helpful answer to that question. Neil loved his cats half to death, but they were just two dumb little shits. If they were smarter, Sir and King would be able to use their abilities as creatures of the inbetween of worlds to see Andrew for themselves or something. 

Then Neil looked down at his lapful of cats and doubted. He couldn’t say definitively if they’d be able to catch a glimpse of Andrew but King was maybe communicating something here. 

After all, it made sense. Cats were creatures connected to the other world but they weren’t _part of it_. They could see the invisible on Earth, but not those who belonged on the other side. 

Andrew had made it clear to Neil a long time ago: when he died, he wouldn’t go to Heaven. And where he went, Sir and King could only act as windows—providing visuals but never entrance. Neil would have to become a sinner to be part of Hell with Andrew. Only so they could suffer together. 

Neil’s eyes burned but he refused to cry. 

He had to figure out what happened and how dirty he’d have to get his hands to avenge Andrew’s death. 

The lights on his apartment flickered again and Neil looked up. Sighing, Neil got up, careful of his cats, and told the snotty-faced stranger to stay where he was. The lights kept flickering as he drew his gun on his corridor as he went after Aaron, which apparently was the name of his brother-in-law. 

Neil steeled himself for a fight. He might be on the brink of a breakdown, but he just _knew_ that Aaron was about to find himself in a bit of a tight spot. Andrew probably wouldn’t have wanted his brother dead, especially since he sent him to Neil. 

* * *

Neil found proof of how he was right about Aaron being in a tight spot—he found him under the still flickering lamp post in the street, the only one working in the street behind Neil’s building. Aaron was looking up with perplexity and a little bit of fear. Neil noticed the eerie quiet of the night and repressed chills as he stood protectively in front of Aaron. The quiet was uncommon for this early in the night in Palmetto, creepy and _weird_—and then he heard it. 

Wings. 

As far as harbingers of doom went, they could be interpreted incredibly innocently and not doom related at all. Neil wasn’t a fool though. He just sighed as he pulled a rag from his left pocket and Andrew’s flask with vodka from his right. To be honest, Neil had a moment of weakness where he almost didn’t douse the rag he wrapped around his hand with the vodka but that would be dumb. 

Andrew was _dead_. There was nobody left to drink it. 

All that was left to do with this fucking thing was to light it up with another of Andrew’s keepsake—a cheap lighter. 

As the flames rose, higher than what would be logical (but that was the magic of _blessed_ alcohol), Neil’s eyes adjusted to what was around them and he stopped. 

Because… he’d been expecting something stupid. Usually, half-demons were the ones pulling these blackouts stunts, using whatever creatures they could to cause chaos. However, those fuckers flying around were _definitely_ demons. Real _fucking _demons. 

Lower demons, yes, but the _real deal _nonetheless. Something that should _not _be allowed out of Hell. All of those who fell shouldn’t be able to fly, technically, but medicine did wonders to everybody. 

Medicine still wasn’t enough to explain what the _fuck _those dumbshits were doing on Earth, hounding over Andrew’s twin brother. Didn’t they have the real deal with them? Not that Neil wanted them to be tormenting Andrew, but… it didn’t make _sense_. 

Neil got rid of them—at least 30 lower demons, vaporized by the light of the blessed vodka. Andrew would’ve snorted so hard at that—and turned to Aaron, who was cowering on the ground where he’d fallen on his ass and didn’t dare to move other than turning his head to the side and vomiting profusely. It was impossible not to feel disgusted by how _discrepant_ the twins were. Not because of vomit. The sulfur was usually too much for anyone who first experienced it. Mostly, Neil just disliked Aaron because he didn’t seem to be the strong, unyielding fortress that his brother… was. 

Fuck. 

Andrew was dead. 

Neil’s breath was knocked out of him. And if Aaron asked, he’d totally blame it on the demons. 

“Are you going to deny that those creatures weren’t related to the Occult too?” Neil asked Aaron, and the sound of his voice was obviously enough to make Aaron remember he had some dignity after all as he stood to glower up at Neil. “Maybe they are just a flock of weird birds, huh?” 

“What the _fuck_ were those?” 

“Geese.” Neil smiled mockingly. “They’re the worst, aren’t they?” 

Aaron glowered harder and opened his mouth—probably to be annoying. Honestly, Neil didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. It grated at his already frayed nerves. Also, Neil was already on fucking edge from fighting against _real demons. _On _Earth._

“C’mon,” Neil said then, because there was nothing else he could do. “We’re going back to my apartment and you’ll tell me everything about… Andrew’s death and then I’ll answer some of your questions.” 

“This is bullshit,” Aaron said but followed as Neil led the way. It was hard not to be a little bit impressed by someone so stubborn to cling to his own stupidity. 

Neil didn’t care about how much Aaron wanted to deny their situation. He just wanted to call some people and hope this was something that could be actually explained by using _logic _because, currently, he was just lost. 

But angry too. Andrew was dead, and there was nothing that Neil could do about it. Other than succumb to what was trying to brew inside of him, ready to be let loose. Neil had never sinned before but honestly? Hate the sin, love the sinner. If he was finally tainting himself in the name of revenge, he would do it so fully there’d be absolutely no doubt he’d meant it. 

Andrew wouldn’t have been proud, mostly because he’d think Neil was being stupid and losing focus of what was important. But Andrew would’ve been fucking wrong, because to get to _this _point, Neil knew exactly what was really important. 

And he’d just lost it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some slight heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
first of all, looks like i didn't finish this in october like i wanted. Oops! Uni sucked the life out of me and i thought i would have more time during october than i actually did. Oh well, at least im not abandoning it?  
  
Second of all, you might have noticed that the chapter count changed. Unfortunately, I rewatched Constantine to try to get myself excited about writing this again and! I had to change my plans for this fic! It's probably gonna be better now tho???? To be seen!  
  
Thirdly and lastly, thanks to [poetic_ivy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetic_ivy/pseuds/poetic_ivy) for editing this for me! This fic wouldn't be half of what it is without your input. Literally. Lmao love u aaaaaaaaaaaaa  
  
hope y'all enjoy this!  


Getting Aaron back to the apartment was relatively easy thanks to shock. The whole process up the stairs was a bit unstable but by the time they were at Neil’s floor, Aaron had shaken Neil’s supportive hand off. 

The stranger Neil had left in his apartment started a trillion different questions, but was unable to finish a single one when they came through the front door. Aaron just dropped himself on the couch and hid his face in his forearm, saying "Nicky, _shut up,_" when Nicky started to poke him. It didn’t matter what Nicky told him after that, Aaron just kept ignoring his concerned proddings. 

Neil, on the other hand, simply stared at the singed piece of cloth on his hand and closed his door slowly. He didn’t have any fucking clue what was happening in the world. Winged _lower demons_ following the twin brother of a psychic. That was something that just _didn’t happen._

Unfortunately, it _had _happened and Neil knew what he needed to do. 

Nicky accompanied Neil with his eyes when he got away from the door to search for his phone in the bedroom. Neil was probably going to have to plug it because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d charged the damn thing, but oh well. Lower demons out of Hell. It was, technically, a dire situation that required more than Neil could do alone. Getting help was vital; he’d need a working phone for that. 

When he came back with his phone and one of the million phone chargers Andrew had given him (one in every drawer in Neil’s room so that Neil would never forget—which didn’t hurt to see, _at all_), Nicky tentatively asked if he could mess around in Neil’s kitchen to get Aaron something calming. Neil just shrugged and waited until Nicky disappeared before heading towards his guest room, since there was a working outlet there but not in his bedroom. 

Neil plugged in his phone, and waited for it to power up so he could call his friends. He didn’t have many of those. Mostly because he didn’t care about having that many. He had a lot more than he ever imagined he’d get to have, especially since he didn’t have an easy-going personality at all—but the people in his life were all _fiercely _loyal. They had come into his life through two situations: by Andrew not wanting to deal with people and sending them to Neil, or by them finding Neil out destroying evil/private properties. 

Neil might not have a fucking clue about what was going on, but they might. And, if they didn’t, Neil knew he wouldn’t even have to ask to get their help with investigating it. 

Neil might even feel comfortable to cry about Andrew a little—not for long, but the support of breaking down and trusting in your safety net would probably be nice? 

Neil didn't know. He wasn’t a crier; the last time he could actually remember crying (as an emotion output, _not_ from pain) was when his mother died. 

Neil sighed when his phone finally turned on and he didn’t have any excuse not to dial Dan’s number anymore. 

At least he wouldn't have to bury Andrew. However, he didn’t think he was healthily processing his boyfriend’s death at all. Or some bullshit like that. Andrew was the one who actually had a therapist for years. Neil mostly floundered from one emotion to the other, completely clueless, but even he knew that how he was doing this was a breeding ground for a major breakdown. 

Granted, it had only been an hour since he’d gotten the news—since he found out his boyfriend had a twin brother, since he saw his first lower demons outside of Hell. Maybe even a little more than an hour; it was hard to keep track of time when he was so out of touch with his emotions. Still, that was a perfectly good amount of time to be numb about it, right? 

The line finally connected and Dan said, “Neil? What’s wrong?” and Neil didn’t even think about it. He just blurted, “Andrew’s dead.” 

He heard clothes rustling and Dan was saying in a whisper, “_Oh. _Oh, Neil. Shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“That’s not why I’m calling you, though,” Neil took a deep breath and told her everything. He was a little clumsy with his words, which was weird, but Dan didn’t stop him at all. When he finished retelling what he’d seen, Dan was quiet for a long time. 

“I’m gonna go get Matt and then we’re heading to yours.” 

“Thank you, Dan,” Neil said and then hung up so he could call the others. Hopefully, he’d be better at this after the third call or something. 

* * *

Renee was the first one to arrive—not surprising, since she did live two blocks away from Neil. Although Nicky talked to her, Aaron was still a little shaken, and very spikey against Renee’s best attempts at making small talk to him. 

It probably didn’t help that King was in Aaron’s lap, trying to climb onto his shoulder. Neil wouldn’t fucking let himself think about why she was probably acting a little bit more loving towards Aaron that she usually would around strangers. Maybe Aaron was around Andrew a lot and the cat had gotten used to him. 

Yeah. Maybe. 

The next two that arrived were Dan and Matt—and that last one immediately wrapped Neil in the tightest hug Neil had ever received, saying, “I’m so sorry, man,” to him in a wobbly voice. 

Neil felt a pang in his chest and hugged Matt back. They both took a little longer to separate, but when they did, Matt kind of frowned at Neil’s stoic face. 

_Later_, Neil mouthed to him, really not wanting to deal with it right then. 

Kevin was, surprisingly, the next one to appear. Neil had not been able to get him on the phone, but he’d shot him a message. He hadn’t expected him to come, but it was good. They’d probably need another powerful Exorcist, especially one as obsessed with academic studies as Kevin. If there was something that explained this in any of the books, Kevin would know about it. 

Allison arrived not even twenty minutes later, alone. “Seth won’t be able to come,” she said, which wasn’t surprising at all. Seth almost never left his headquarters, surrounded by his comforting antiques and treasures, always afraid that someone would take any of it from him. “He’s looking into it, though. If someone knows something, Seth is offering a big prize. In your name, of course.” 

“Of course,” Neil nodded, kind of glad he wouldn’t have to deal with Seth’s particular brand of assholerism. Allison sort of smirked at Neil’s indiscreetly relieved face, but there was a sadness laying underneath her expression that was weird to see. She gave him a short pat on the shoulder when she walked past him to the living room. 

After making sure his door was latched closed, Neil turned and watched everybody looking at him expectantly. He frowned for a second, feeling like something was amiss. Then he understood. Everybody seemed to think that everyone was there—and they were. He was the only one who was still waiting for a late arrival. 

Neil had to look away for a second, trying to cling to his stoicism but failing a little. “Well… as you’re all aware, Andrew is dead.” 

Grim faces looked back at him. Neil glanced briefly at Aaron, who now had King on his shoulder, and was supporting the cat’s bottom with a single hand. At least King wasn’t meowing sadly anymore, so Neil refused to react to that. 

“Aaron, can you tell them what happened?” Neil wanted to say tell _us_, because honestly, Aaron hadn’t really given him the full picture. At least, Neil didn’t remember it. 

The bare facts were these: Andrew’s body had been found in front of his mental health facility at 5 a.m. No one had heard him jump, and no one had seen the body until the morning shift arrived. As soon as it was noticed, the police were notified and security instantly provided the recordings from the roof’s camera. 

Aaron was one of the detectives called. Nobody connected Andrew’s surname to the surname of one of the detectives, but as soon as Aaron arrived at the scene and they saw his face, people wanted to bar him from it. Aaron was still able to interview people and review the footage, but he hadn’t been allowed much else. 

“As if I’d let my _emotions _get in the way of doing my job,” Aaron mumbled angrily and Neil squinted at him, thinking _bullshit_. Aaron had ran away from Neil in a rage when he talked about the supernatural. He’d accepted Neil’s help on the stairs until his pride came back online. Aaron was nowhere as good as Andrew at masking his emotions. If Andrew was _constantly _doing things that were emotionally motivated, even if he’d never admit it, Aaron wasn’t exempt from that too. 

Not that Neil thought Aaron and Andrew were the same person. But they must be similar, right? Assuming they grew up together after Andrew left the system. Neil didn’t know much about Andrew’s life. He was always more worried about learning what Andrew _wanted_ him to. The gaps never bothered him before. 

Now… well, Neil was not bothered, not exactly. Still, he didn’t think there was any way that Aaron was telling the truth by saying he wouldn’t let his emotions get in the way. 

“Why did you come to Neil, though?” Dan asked. “It doesn’t sound like you knew Neil and Andrew were together.” 

“I didn’t,” Aaron said and made a face. Everybody in the room seemed to frown at him in unison. Even Nicky didn’t seem to approve of Aaron at that moment. 

Neil had to hide a smile and realized there were tears in his eyes. What the fuck? 

“It was just something I picked up from the footage. Andrew said the name Neil Josten before he…” 

It was inopportune that Neil’s eyes were full of water at that moment. It sent the wrong message, kind of. 

“Why?” asked Allison, obviously avoiding looking at Neil. 

Aaron started to turn his head slowly, until he was watching Neil’s every move head-on. “That’s what I’d like to know. Also… in the footage...” 

“Yes?” Allison prompted when Aaron paused. 

“It doesn’t look like Andrew _jumped_. Or fell.” Aaron’s hand squished King a little bit more than she seemed to want, because her tail swished from one side to the other, annoyed. If Aaron didn’t let his hand up soon, he was going to be scratched and stabbed by King’s claws without mercy. Neil didn’t feel like telling him that though, because Aaron was looking at Neil kind of accusingly. “It looks like he was _pushed._” 

“Which brings us nicely to what just happened right outside my apartment.” Neil’s short story—much shorter than Aaron’s, _thank you_—made the mood of the room change instantaneously. Telling the story on the phone was one thing, but showing the singed cloth, especially to Renee (who didn’t seem that excited about touching it), took the whole ordeal to a new level. They all knew that _demons_ weren’t supposed to be around. Demons weren’t supposed to be _seen_, demons weren’t supposed to swarm people and, most importantly, they weren’t supposed to swarm people who had a brother _currently _in Hell. 

Well. _Probably_ currently in Hell. 

Neil didn’t have a lot of hope left for Andrew’s soul, though. He was _not_ going to entertain the thoughts of what horrors Andrew was currently living through. Hope was quite a heart-wrenching thing, after all. 

“That’s impossible,” Kevin said, which was predictable. Neil rolled his eyes and threw the burned cloth at Kevin’s face, who spluttered (it still stank of sulfur) and glared at Neil with the cloth held far away from him. Renee gently took the cloth from Kevin’s angry fist and froze, her hand in the air, eyes lost to the world around her. 

All of the others watched her in silence. Nicky and Aaron appeared distinctly confused about what was happening. When Renee was freed from her vision, she gasped and kept breathing heavily as she looked at Neil. 

Neil looked calmly back at her. “You believe in me.” 

Renee gulped and nodded. “Something’s happening.” 

“You haven’t seen anything?” 

“No,” Renee gave Neil an apologetic look. “But Andrew might have.” 

Neil sighed and felt his chest constrict. Kevin was avoiding looking at him, clearly uncomfortable with the course of this conversation. Dan was trying to give Neil an encouraging look, while Matt was obviously trying not to cry. Probably not over Andrew’s death, because Matt had some bad blood with Andrew, but for Neil, maybe. Renee was, as always, full of compassion in her angelic demeanor but she also had telling red, puffy eyes. Andrew was her best friend, after all. Not even Allison (who was trying to look strong whilst not staring at Neil’s face) was above Andrew in Renee’s heart, and Allison was Renee’s… something. 

Despite how numb he was feeling, Neil still loved his friends so much. He wished that he could pass the responsibility of the next step to one of them, just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it, but he wouldn’t. Neil would never disrespect Andrew's memory like that. It was unthinkable to let someone else see if Andrew was actually in Hell, even if it was going to be the most painful thing that Neil had ever submitted himself to. Which was saying something, because Neil had once willingly gone along with people who’d kidnapped him; he had _known_ they were going to torture him, and still he had gone. 

Neil sighed. It wouldn’t do to stall it. 

“I’m going to ignore whatever you mean by that,” Nicky said, looking at Renee nervously; it was obvious that he wanted to ask something else. He had to take a deep breath before doing so. “What’s going to happen now?” 

“Well, the others are going to ask around if anyone else has noticed anything weird,” Neil said and waved a hand around in the air. “Aaron, it would be nice if you were able to get your hands on any of Andrew’s notebooks. He has lots of them and you’d be able to gain access to his stuff more easily than anyone else could. Some of those might be useful for us. And as for me…” Neil paused and turned his back to them all. He would _not _show his face right now. It would be too much to ask of him. “I’m going to see if Andrew is in Hell.” 

* * *

Neil and Andrew were lying in the same bed, enough space between them for a slight breeze to pass but nothing else. Neil would never admit it to Andrew, but even without touching they felt inseparable. Being away from each other didn’t diminish that feeling for him, which felt weird. For a long time, Neil had been dependant on people. He’d depended on his mother to survive when they ran, depended on his uncle when running didn’t work out, and depended on unhealthy habits such as jumping head first into whatever trouble he could find just to avoid dealing with his uncle’s worried looks. Latching onto something and making that his sole reason to live was the only way he knew how to keep himself alive—the same logic was applied to any relationship or friendship he’d had after his mother. 

With Andrew, though? They were two solid foundations, stretched wide through the distance between them but still _together_. Connected. They didn’t depend on each other to exist, and their relationship didn’t _need _to rely on physical proximity to survive. 

It was a rush to be close to someone and not need to be _physically _close to them in order to feel complete. Still, when you _were _close, in each other’s presence, in each other’s beds, arms, hearts, _eyes_… 

It was overwhelming. Neil never would’ve imagined anything like this could have ever happened to him. 

Neil remembered that once, the subject of revenge had appeared. Andrew was a firm believer that revenge was a motivator for the weak-willed. Neil, who had avenged his mother’s death, who hadn’t stopped until his father was dead and his followers were in jail, had bristled at that. 

“What am I supposed to do if you’re killed, then?” Neil had asked Andrew, annoyance clear in his voice. Andrew’s face had been a statue. “Just accept and move on?” 

Andrew’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t say anything. That prompted Neil to look at Andrew’s ceiling as he said, “You like your promises, so I promise you that if you die, I’ll bring death to whoever was responsible for it.” 

Andrew had snorted and said, “_If_,” in a mocking voice. Neil had told him to shut up, refusing to let himself blush over his earnestness. 

Andrew’s “Make me shut up” was enough to take Neil’s breath away while he instantly obeyed. 

* * *

Neil didn’t want to compare that memory, or any of the memories where he had laid down with Andrew—on the bed, the couch, Andrew’s kitchen floor; anywhere they could be together without the urgency of a fight to survive—to the soon-to-be memory of visiting Andrew in his last few moments. But it was going to happen. And it was sure to become the new top definition of torture in Neil’s dictionary. 

That was what Neil was thinking when he decided that Sir would be the one to help him look into the other side. Neil didn’t feel like it would be fair to King to do this with him. King probably wouldn’t even understand what was happening to her—she really wasn’t a smart cat—and Neil still didn’t feel comfortable using King, arguably _Andrew’s _cat, to possibly visit her owner in Hell. 

He knew exactly what Andrew would’ve said: _It’s just a fleabag. It’s not intelligent enough to understand what’s happening to it. _Maybe he would even make a jab at Neil’s own intelligence. 

Neil took a shuddering breath and Aaron gave him a suspicious look. He was in the bathroom doorway, helping Neil by holding Sir, while Neil filled a basin with a tiny bit of warm water from the shower. Sir was scared of the showerhead noises, and Aaron was the only one who didn’t have an assigned task. 

Well, he did have one, but he flat out refused to do it because “he didn’t see the point in it.” Neil was ready to snap at him, but Nicky had volunteered himself to be the one to go to Andrew’s apartment, using Andrew’s car. The police hadn’t really confiscated any of Andrew’s things—he hadn’t been murdered, so there were no reasons for it. Nicky was going to bring anything that looked like a notebook to them. 

Sir’s tail was swishing jerkily from one side to the other, and Neil turned off the shower head before she could claw at Aaron. Neil put the basin in front of the chair he’d brought from his kitchen and sat down on it before asking for his cat. 

Despite his doubtful face, Aaron gave Sir to Neil and watched both of them for a few seconds. Neil waited for him to understand he wasn’t needed anymore and sighed when Aaron kept _staring_. Well, now it had evolved to glaring, actually. 

“Thank you, Aaron,” Neil said, grasping at any fragment of patience in his reach. “You can go now.” 

“You won’t hurt the cat, right?” 

“Hurt her?” 

“Yeah,” Aaron paused. Looked at Sir and how relaxed she was under Neil’s absent-minded pets. “Like… you won’t sacrifice her, right?” 

Neil scoffed incredulously. Was Aaron for fucking real? 

“This is my fucking cat! _Of course _I won’t sacrifice her.” Neil scoffed more strongly and muttered, “_Fucking idiot_,” under his breath. 

Aaron scrutinized Neil for a few seconds longer but then he slowly inched out of the bathroom. It was like he was waiting for Neil to do something suspicious. 

Neil just rolled his eyes and fixated his own gaze on Sir’s green eyes. Neil kept petting Sir’s head; and instead of doing what she usually did with head scritches—close her eyes and purr like a motorboat—Sir kept staring intently at Neil’s eyes. 

Not for the first time, Neil wondered if cats also went somewhere when people were pulled to Hell through their eyes. 

It wasn’t like the answer mattered, in any way. 

One moment, Neil was in his bathroom. 

In the next, his hair was being blown into every direction. He had the usual crystal-like ball in his hand, also known as his only way out, and the stench that permeated the place was almost toxic. 

Hell was incredibly windy and looked like shit. 

It wasn’t Earth-like windy. It was a wind that ate away at the buildings, took pieces of the cars that littered the place and disintegrated everything into dust right in front of your eyes. Ashes and embers were blown everywhere, and you automatically scrunched up your face in fear of being blinded by it. The overall sensation was of being in a tropical summer, but without really feeling the humidity. The only reason Neil didn’t sweat through all of his clothes was because he wasn’t really there. Not technically, at least. 

Neil heard a sound and started to walk. It wouldn’t be good for his overall health if he stayed immobile. Neil might not have any sins for demons to follow him, but Neil _was _an Exorcist. He must have enemies here, _surely_. And even though Neil wasn’t physically in Hell, this was his _soul_ passing through. Demons could still rip it to pieces. 

After marching for what felt like a few minutes, Neil saw it. Him. He didn’t think it was the right figure at first, because he wasn’t wearing black, but Neil didn’t stop to think even a little before running towards the blond man who was around fifty yards away from him. 

Andrew had his back to him, but Neil still felt a pang in his heart just from seeing how strong he was, how _solid_. Andrew was never supposed to bend to anyone’s desire, be it from mortal or immortal creatures. Andrew never looked like someone who was susceptible to Death. 

“Andrew,” Neil breathed, his voice stolen by the wind. “Andrew Minyard.” 

Andrew turned—just a little, enough to look back at Neil. He raised his chin defiantly and his jaw clenched for a few seconds, like he was trying to suppress something. “Neil Josten,” he said, voice also stolen by the same wind that surrounded Neil. His voice echoed in Neil’s head and in his _heart_. Neil felt like his name was made corporeal by Andrew’s voice, that he could grasp onto it if he just reached out. Never let go. He’d keep his name, coming alive from Andrew’s mouth, forever in his possession if he could. 

Andrew snapped something from his bare arms and freed it in the air. It was immediately taken by the wind and it rose and rose and rose. Neil watched it for a few seconds and ran faster, eyes still following the flying thing. 

When he looked back ahead, Andrew had turned his back on him again. 

“Andrew,” Neil said again and then he felt it. A gust of wind—different direction from the winds of Hell. It came from behind Neil, made an arc, and landed a creature right in front of him. Neil almost stumbled trying to stop running, watching the leathery creature—a Hound, of course it was a fucking Hound—for movement, waiting to be attacked. 

The creature wasn’t looking at him, though. 

“No!” Neil yelled, and ran as fast as he could. He wouldn’t be fast enough. And even if he was, it didn’t make any difference. This had already happened. There was nothing he could do. 

Andrew didn’t move away as the creature hit his back head on. Neil wanted to feel grateful it wasn’t _teeth_ first, but he couldn’t. He watched as Andrew lost his balance, arms out as if trying to swim in midair; as if by doing that he could get himself upright. It was futile. 

Andrew—stoic, solid, firmer than any Earth that Neil’s feet had ever stepped over—fell. 

The flying thing hit Neil in the face, and he caught it in his hand just as he noticed he was being surrounded by Hounds on all sides. They tried to run towards him, but he just broke the crystal against his chest, watching the world dissolve like dripping paint. 

* * *

One moment, Neil was in Hell. 

In the other, he was back in his bathroom. The doorknob clicked, indicating that Aaron had just left and shut it behind him, but it didn’t take long for the door to be jerked open again. Aaron had probably heard Neil wheezing from being able to breathe and having a body again. The water at Neil’s feet was boiling, and Neil himself was smoking. 

Neil felt like he was on the brink of throwing up. Not because of the stink of sulfur, or how his skin felt weirdly tight, or how his lungs were absolutely freaking the hell out. Sir, as usual, had gotten away from Neil as soon as she had started to heave—Neil never had vomited on his cat, but he’d definitely gotten close and Sir didn’t tolerate close calls at all anymore. 

This time though, it took a while for Neil to notice that he wasn’t _heaving _like usual. As the minutes went by Neil started to feel more and more disconnected from his body. 

It felt like he was a third person in the room, watching Aaron stare at Neil with wide eyes that were too scared to be the correct ones. Aaron seemed to be straining to hear what Neil was gasping out, his voice more breath than sound, and Aaron obviously regretted the effort when Neil finally spoke clearly enough to be understood. 

“He’s in Hell,” Neil hiccuped, and raised Andrew’s identification wristband, which Aaron quickly grabbed. Neil let his back collapse against the chair, looking at the ceiling for a moment. There was a giant crack that almost reached the ceiling light. His landlord should have already gotten it fixed, but would probably wait until it collapsed on top of Neil’s head. Oh, well. 

“The fuck…” Aaron muttered, still looking at the information on the wristband as if he couldn’t believe it was actually his brother’s. _Honestly, _fuck_ him,_ Neil thought viciously to himself. _He thinks he can act surprised at this? What the fuck? He isn’t the one who just witnessed Andrew’s fucking _death_._

Aaron turned the wristband over and froze like a deer in the headlights. Neil wanted to ask him what was wrong but Aaron just slowly raised his eyes to him and handed the wristband back wordlessly. 

Neil’s hand shook weakly as he raised it to eye-level. 

On the inside of the wristband, there was Andrew’s recognizable handwriting. For a man who claimed to be so uncaring about anything, his neat cursive betrayed his most inner works. Even though it was clearly written in a hurry, it said, _The Black One. Take care of my family. Open A’s eyes. Don’t be stupid. Remember: I’ll always hate you._

Aaron jumped back suddenly and it took Neil a moment to register that it was because Neil had made an inhumane sound. Matt, Dan, and Renee where still in the apartment making calls, and they came to the bathroom door to see what the fuck was happening. 

If it had been a few years back, Neil might have closed the door again so he could crumble apart in peace. However, Andrew had taught him many things. There was strength in putting up a brave face so that you didn’t pressure your peers, but there was also comfort in knowing that you could have a breakdown and have witnesses who wouldn’t judge you for it. Andrew had never judged Neil when he needed to let out his own emotions, to let them spill all over everything until he felt empty, until he felt nothing. 

Neil knew that each person there would understand (aside from Aaron, because Neil didn’t trust him). Neil’s partner had just died. The first person to worm his way into Neil’s life, to make Neil not want to run at the three-month mark, the person responsible for getting Neil to see that by grasping here and placing his foot there—he could become a person himself. 

Neil was a person now. And he didn’t want to run. 

So he didn’t pay much thought to what the others might be thinking at that moment, not even Aaron. He grasped the wristband tightly, wrinkling it a bit with his shaking fists—something he’s probably regret later—and wept profusely. 

Andrew was gone. 

Neil knew that Andrew was probably going to face incredible pain, for a long, long time. Hell was very much about the eternal suffering—well. Pre-suffering. When The Day of Judgement arrived, _then_ there’d be eternal suffering for all of them. The pre-suffering thing still wasn’t _nice_. But there was nothing Neil could do to stop it. 

So he just let himself cry in his own bathroom until he was empty. Until he was nothing, and his eyes were blurry enough that it felt like he was by himself, like he was alone; exactly like he would be now that there was no Andrew in his life anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff that i need to make clear:  
  
1\. Im currently on my finals MONTH (not week. I have a MONTH of all my finals... stuff). Im dealing with 9 tests (already did 3, and didnt pass one of them which means i failed one of my classes and im NOT SAD ABOUT IT), 4 presentations and 5 papers to write. I have another chapter of this almost ready to be posted and i'll try to keep writing but! It all depends on my motivation and how well i organize my time between working on my degree/working on my beloved fics  
  
2\. My motivation is hungry for feedback. That doesn't mean you need to comment, but pLEASE at least leave a kudo. Or bookmark my fic. One of the reasons why this chapter took forever to come was because this is the least engaged fic I've had. I knew that the Major Character Death would push some people away but PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU. TRUST ME. Also, PLEASE INTERACT WITH THIS.  
  
3\. i need to make clear that i love you above all else, alright? thank you for your attention  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
the aftermath of the Big Cry, some verbal dressing downs and a broken bathtub. Neil's not sorry for any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
listen, yes it's been more than a month. I'm gonna ramble on the end notes with the reasons but if you dont care about them, enjoy the chapter i guess? I was brilliantly betaed by the WONDERFUL [priorwalter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/priorwalter). Love you loads, blue <3

Surprisingly, not a single one of Neil's friends enveloped him in a hug right after he was finally able to stop crying. 

It was obvious that some of them wanted to, especially because it was what they did when they went out in groups, but they mostly clung to one another. 

They also seemed to understand that what Neil really wanted was some _movement, _so they quickly started to move around from one side to the other in front of the bathroom. They had their confirmation now that Andrew was actually dead _and_ in Hell. 

When Neil felt ready to talk about what he'd seen, it was also confirmed that something weird was happening. If Andrew was shoved in the Hell vision of his death, he was also shoved in the roof. But the fact that _nothing_ appeared on footage neither on the vision? 

It was… suspicious, to say the least. 

So after some awkward shuffling, Neil’s friends stopped freezing at Neil's bathroom door and went back to their distinctive tasks. Neil was given space to come out of the bathroom when he was ready—puffy eyed, yes, nose red from blowing his nose, yes, but after almost drowning himself on the cold tap water, Neil _looked _more normal. 

He got out of the bathroom trying to smooth over the wrinkles he made on the wristband with his fingers alone. 

Aaron was just outside in the corridor, clearly trying to not get in the away of anyone and also, predictably, the only one who acted weirded out about Neil’s crying. He kept sending weird looks to Neil and also to the wristband, like what Neil was holding was a dangerous snake and, if he didn't watch it, he'd suffer dearly from the consequences. 

Neil couldn’t give two shits about him and his nervousness, though. He just drank the tea that Kevin had almost shoved at him (because Kevin was a lot of things, but a bad tea maker wasn’t one of them), and sat on his living room as he spaced out—for long enough that he had to blink hard when Nicky came back from Andrew’s apartment. 

It only took one glance at the people who were still there to complete wreck whatever smile Nicky had bravely tried to put on. His face made it clear that he wanted to ask what had happened while he was away. 

“Uhh…” Nicky hesitated as he looked at every single available face, that were practically screaming at him _don't fucking ask!!_. “I need help to get the notebooks up here?” 

Everybody looked at Neil for guidance, nervousness visible in all of their faces but there would be no protest from Neil—and no directions either. Neil cared that the notebooks were brought up, but it didn't matter by _whom. _

Also, mostly, he just didn’t feel ready to _speak _yet. So he silently sipped his tea and Kevin and Matt offered their help hesitantly, moving with confidence once there were no protests. 

When they came back, Neil had already finished his tea, and Dan gently took the mug from him. Neil watched as Kevin, Matt and Nicky put the notebooks in the kitchen table in a bunch of towers, but neither of them opened a single one. Well, Nicky looked like he wanted to, but one look from Dan was enough to dissuade him from that idea. Neil’s friend probably knew he’d want to go through them alone. 

As soon as they all confirmed that Neil was overall fine (or at least not really in a worrying state, or that was what Neil gathered from their looks), they started to gather their stuff in order to go to their homes. 

Well, most of them. 

“Should we stay, buddy?” Matt asked Neil in a whisper. 

Neil thought about it. Outside, the sky had become redder and redder as the night progressed. There were still lights and realistically, there probably wasn't going to be another attack. It would make no difference how many people was or wasn't staying at Neil’s home. 

Neil heard Allison and Dan arguing quietly about all of them or most of them staying here and camping in Neil's living room. Neil only had to think about that for a few seconds to completely abhor the idea. 

Allison and Dan approached him to argue, but Neil shook his head and nodded it towards Nicky and Aaron. 

“I'll need to convince them to stay here,” Neil said quietly. “Nicky probably wouldn't mind a big crowd but if Aaron is anything like his brother, he's not gonna be easily convinced. I think the lesser people crowding the apartment, the better chances I have.” 

Allison looked over at where Aaron was, even though she couldn't see him from where she was standing. It was obvious that, to her, Aaron was the spawn of the devil and the one to be blamed for this inconvenience. Dan patted him gently on the shoulder and didn't say anything else as she moved to help Matt, who was yelling for help in the kitchen. Allison followed her after a few seconds and Neil heard the sounds of chaos being brewed on his kitchen. 

With a sigh, Neil was forced to admit at least to himself that the thought of having that many people there, making noises and _existing_ in his home, was a lackluster one. He just knew that he'd hear their steps, their breathing, and hope it was someone else. Make his heart squeeze painfully each time he was forced to remind himself… 

So Neil was glad to see all of his friends gathered in his living room, ready to go and promising to come back in the morning. 

His friends didn’t even need to talk about it, and Neil in turned didn't complain when they all enveloped him in a silent group hug—yes, unfortunately, even Kevin. Renee informed him in a quiet voice that she had prepared a lasagna with what he had left in his fridge and that now he only needed to put it on the oven. Neil felt… overwhelmed, to say the least, but he thanked her and Renee squeezed his hand gently. 

His friends were gone after a solid twenty minutes of group hug. Neil turned to face Aaron and Nicky—the former one avoiding eye-contact with a tight jaw and the latter looking puzzled. 

Unfortunately for Neil, it was important that he sat both of them down to talk. Neil didn't have to explain to the others about what he’d seen, because they _knew_, even without the details. However, Nicky and Aaron were ignorant, in the most dangerous way. They needed to know what it all meant—but _specifically_ what the wristband was telling Neil about Aaron. 

Well. The part he _assumed _Andrew had been telling him about Aaron. Neil doubted the _A_ was for _Allison_, after all. 

* * *

Neil started with the wager. 

It was the foundations of all the movements of his universe, after all, and they needed to understand its influences. The whole of humanity was nothing but pawns to some creatures, and the quantity of pawns captured would determine the winning side. 

“So what you're telling me is that Heaven and Hell are involved in a worldwide game of tug of war?” Nicky asked incredulously. 

“That's fucking ridiculous,” Aaron muttered and scowled and Nicky shushed him absentmindedly. 

“Assuming that you mean humanity is the rope on the tug of war, that would imply a little more contact than they are allowed, as in _any contact at all_.” Nicky shook his head as Neil talked, but not like he disagreed with him, like Aaron obviously was. “Heaven and Hell can’t send angels and demons to mess with us. That stopped a long, long time ago. Both sides are only allowed _indirect _influence. Think of it as if was close to the Cold War. Big threats but a lot of spying instead of fighting going on.” 

“So what you’re saying is that both God and the Devil,” Nicky stated hesitantly and Neil nodded to confirm. “Both of them are the crowd cheering for the side they want to win?” 

Neil thought about that and made a non-committal sound. That was the worst metaphor he’d ever heard about the wager. “That's a good way of putting it,” he said and Nicky gave him a shy smile. 

“This is bullshit,” Aaron said, voice louder this time, but both Neil and Nicky ignored him. 

“Ok, if they can't influence directly… what does it mean that Aaron was attacked by…” 

“Lower demons,” Neil supplied and sighed. “That's exactly _why _that’s weird. Lower demons aren't allowed out of hell at all. Sometimes you get some soldier demons trying to break through dimensions but there are barriers. That many demons out and about? It should be _impossible._” 

“And you want us to believe when you say that Andrew is in Hell,” Aaron scoffed and shook his head, completely missing the wide-eyed look Nicky fixated on him. Aaron was, apparently, more worried about being a bitch to Neil than to notice his own fucking cousin. “You know, if this is the shit you fed to my brother, than I'm glad he's dead. At least he won't have to deal with this abusive shit anymore. Seriously, who the fuck says that a dead person was sent to Hell?” 

“Someone with a lot more knowledge about our world, you privileged _shit_,” Neil said in a cold voice, trying to control his temper that just wanted to fire insult after insult at Aaron. Neil turned to Nicky, whose eyes was predictably welling up. “There's a technique that allows someone to visit Hell for a few seconds. Cats are basically portals to the supernatural. I was able to see Andrew's soul there, and also his last moments. He was pushed out of the roof, but the vision didn't show _what _pushed him.” 

“Convenient,” Aaron sneered. 

“I still don’t get it, Andrew _can't be _in Hell!” Nicky protested, shaking his head and looking like he was in blissful denial. Neil kind of envied him but he also couldn’t stop his sigh. He had explained what had happened as simply as he could, and the constant cloud of antagonistic energy coming from Aaron didn't make things easier. “He wasn’t _bad_! Maybe he was a little violent sometimes, but he had his reasons! A lot of bad stuff happened to him, but he shouldn't be sent to Hell for that!” 

Neil took a deep breath and blinked as he looked from Nicky to Aaron. They _didn't know. _Two things that basically colored how Andrew walked through life and they _didn't know. _

It felt like Neil was betraying Andrew by telling his secrets. Unfortunately, there was no way around it. To understand Andrew's fate, they needed to know his past. 

“Andrew tried to kill himself when he was 16. He was dead for a few moments. That's enough of a sin in the eyes of Catholicism, which he was baptized in, because the gift of Life is a miracle and you simply shouldn't shit on that by killing yourself. On top of that... ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and ‘Honour thy father and thy mother’. Andrew violated both of those.” 

Both Nicky and Aaron looked at Neil like he was not alright. 

“He… never killed anyone, though?” Nicky sounded unsure enough that Neil snorted softly. 

“Andrew did a smash-hit with those two,” Neil said and turned to Aaron. “He told me he killed the person who gave birth to him to protect someone else.” 

“That’s a _fucking lie._” Aaron stood with a sudden movement and gave two steps towards Neil, faltering when he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to do. Neil just watched him as he processed this and thought what his face had looked like when Aaron appeared in his front door. 

Had he been that shocked? He was in a relationship with Andrew and hadn’t known he still had live family members, let alone a fucking twin brother. Was that the face someone did when they realized that Andrew told tidbits of his life to different people and there was probably no one alive who knew everything about his entire existence? 

Neil didn’t feel resentment towards Andrew. He knew the struggle to keep the true parts of yourself protected and unknown to those you cared about. Neil didn't do it to the same level that Andrew did, but he _understood_ the logic behind it. 

It was especially telling for someone who didn’t defend himself when someone accused him of being a monster. Andrew sometimes went to great lengths so that nobody would know all of him and he'd barter away pieces of himself—as if it was painful to be known. As if it was painful to _trust._

Neil had grown up with monsters, _true _monsters. When Andrew became part of his life, Neil defended his _humanity _with teeth and sweat, even when Andrew mocked him for it. 

Neil didn't care that Andrew obviously thought it wasn't worth it to correct people on their perceptions of him. Neil knew monsters and Andrew had never been one of them, and Neil fought against anyone who dared to think otherwise. 

As he tried _not to focus on how easy it was to use past tense to talk about Andrew_, Neil watched somberly as Aaron stood up, walked to his living room window and made both cats stop grooming each other to look at him. Aaron ignored King’s questioning meow for just a few seconds, and then started to pet her. Sir, the opportunistic little shit that she was, jumped on the bandwagon and butted Aaron on the chest with her head, loudly complaining until Aaron bend to her wishes and petted her as well. 

“I…” Nicky faltered as he looked from his cousin to Neil. “Okay. Assuming he’s really in Hell… What can we do to help him?” 

Neil shrugged. “Nothing.” 

There was a beat and then Aaron growled. “Coming here was a complete waste of time.” 

“Was it? There was a message about you in that wristband.” 

“Yeah, ‘Open A’s eyes’.” Aaron turned to glare at Neil and Sir’s tail made it clear that Aaron had successfully annoyed her by stopping the pets. “To fucking what? This fuckery you seem to be delusional about?” 

“Am I?” Neil said calmly. “Or are _you_ deluding yourself?” Before Aaron could say anything else, Neil rose from the couch slowly, not being able to stop himself from stalking forward to Aaron. “Andrew was a powerful psychic, Aaron. A really, _really _powerful one. To be the person who shared a womb with him, to be his _identical _twin… It means something. You want to guess what?” 

Neil stopped right in front of Aaron and just by the way his jaw clenched, Neil _knew_ Aaron wanted to punch him. 

He didn’t though. He maintained a somewhat normal pattern but it was clear he was struggling to keep it. 

Neil didn’t care if Aaron wanted to dance the macarena right now. If he actually wanted to fight though, then it'd be just perfect. Neil was definitely spoiling for a fight. 

“It means,” Neil whispered softly, staring intently into Aaron’s eyes. He had unexpected green flecks on his right iris. Neil wished he could scratch them out with his nails until his eyes looked right. “That the chances of _you_ being a powerful psychic as well are considerable.” 

“Uhhh, Neil,” Nicky said tentatively right behind Neil, who had not heard him approaching at all. “You might want to take a step back, buddy…” 

“Have you ever seen inexplicable things?” Neil continued, ignoring Nicky. “When you were a kid, did you see monsters inside your closet, under your bed? Have you looked from the corner of your eye at someone's face in public, when you weren’t really paying attention and saw nightmares? And when you turned to look at them fully, they were still there?” 

“No,” Aaron snarled through gritted teeth. 

“Have you ever had a dream so real that when you woke up and learned it actually happened, you attributed it to déjà vu or some other bullshit like that?” 

“No,” Aaron’s voice was more forceful and clear this time. 

“Did you deny to yourself ever seeing things, especially after people started to tell you that you should stop making that stuff up? Have you ever been taken seriously and sent to a child psychiatrist? It feels like that’s where your resentment comes from.” 

“I don’t have any resentment!” 

“You’re _lying_.” 

“I’ve never seen anything!” 

“You saw the lower demons! How do you explain that?” 

“I didn’t see _shit_!” 

“Tell the truth for yourself at least once in a while: you are _not _normal.” 

“YES I AM,” Aaron yelled and moved his arm back, hand in a fist. Neil didn’t even raised a hand to protect himself from the punch—Aaron had almost no fucking space to properly swing his arm, it wouldn’t hurt at all—but Nicky put his forearm in the way and yelped when Aaron’s fist connected. 

Aaron went straight towards Nicky, who was holding his arm and quietly muttering to it, completely covered by Aaron’s loud apologies. Neil watched them for a few seconds, until Nicky seemed to remember he’d put his hand up in order to try and stop a fight and he sniffled loudly, eyes watered but face clear of tears. 

Aaron looked at Neil, too, and his face instantly turned from sorrowful to a scowl. 

“Let’s assume you’re normal, then,” Neil tells both of them in a quiet voice. “You have never seen anything supernatural ever and your life is as boring as you wish it to be. Your brother seems to have died under mysterious circumstances, and you can't find a logical way to explain how he was “shoved” from that roof. I bring back the wristband he didn’t have with him when he died, and you can't find a logical explanation for that either, unless you want to argue that I was doing an exorcism in the next _state_ and was killing your brother, my _partner, _at the same time. Or maybe I paid to have him killed, for whatever reason your pea-sized brain can come up with. But you came here saying he was _murdered_. Pushed from the roof by some invisible man. But nothing supernatural, huh? 

“You know what it feels like? It feels like you want to be right more than you want to bring justice to your brother’s death. However, you don’t want to be right badly enough to risk your desire to be as normal as possible.” Neil grabbed the wristband from his pocket where he’d put it after smoothing it as much as he could, waving it gently in front of them. Nicky watched it with wide eyes, and Neil remembered he hadn't been here for it. Aaron was just glaring which wasn't surprising. “You want to make the police reopen the case as a murder? Good luck. You’ll never find concrete proof that there was someone up there with Andrew. But _there was something. _Something did push him. But most importantly, Andrew _knew _something was going to happen. He had time to write a message, he had time to break security and go onto the roof of a mental health institution, for fuck's sake. Kevin, Renee, me, all the nice people I called here today to look at your fucking ugly face are trying to find clues in the underworld for _why _Andrew was clearly target of Hell. You can be a skeptic if you want to be. Go home right now if you aren’t really scared that something might happen to you on your way there. But let me ask you something: are you someone attuned to your instincts? You look like you might be, psychics in denial usually are. Stop for a moment to think about you leaving my house and going to yours, alone: how do your instincts feel about it? Are they telling you you'll be safe? I doubt it.” 

Neil was quiet as he extended the wristband, which Nicky grabbed with a slow gesture. Almost like he was trying really hard not to spook an animal. Neil would laugh in other situations but at that moment he was too busy watching all the little changes happening in Aaron’s face. 

“One last thought for you to reflect upon: Your brother probably saw his own death and had enough time to try and give us a warning and some tips. The least you could do is honor his fucking last wishes, you piece of motherfucking _shit_.” 

Neil walked slowly to the kitchen, got as many notebooks as he could carry with him and went back to his room. He didn’t bother to look at the two statues that he had apparently sculpted with words. Just gently closed his bedroom door and sat on his bed, trying to figure out _which_ one of those would be “The Black One” that Andrew had mentioned when _all of them _had black covers. 

After what felt like minutes but must have been hours, there was a soft knock on Neil’s door. When Neil said, “Come in,” Nicky put his head inside with a lot of trepidation but Neil gave nothing back to him other than a blank look. 

“Aaron says he’ll do it,” Nicky told Neil in a quiet voice, fiddling with Andrew's band with nervous fingers. “He'll let you open his eyes.” 

“And he couldn’t tell me himself because…?” 

“Don’t be an instigator right now, Neil, his brother just die—” Nicky’s voice wobbled before his eyes widened, probably in shock at his own unthoughtfulness. 

“Yeah,” Neil said without any inflection in his voice. “I’m aware that my boyfriend just died.” 

“I’m sorry,” Nicky whispered but it still sounded like a whimper. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Neil sighed and turned away from Nicky's almost pitying look. There was nothing Neil could do about Aaron right then. Since Aaron was a grown-up, Neil would need a bathtub to open his eyes. Also, a bathtub implied one session with Aaron, instead of multiple gentler ones. “Tell him there’s nothing I can do today. We’re gonna have to wait until Dan is back tomorrow morning and ask her if we can use her bathtub.” 

Nicky closed the door and Neil snorted. Dan would _never_ let him use her bathtub for this. 

* * *

The next day, Neil took one look at Aaron's hyperventilating and almost catatonic face, and hoped to hell and back that Andrew wasn't wrong about opening Aaron's eyes because, at the moment, he wasn't inspiring much confidence in Neil at all. 

When Dan arrived at the start of the day and Neil asked her about her bathtub, she gave him an extremely judgemental look. Not because she doubted his abilities to open Aaron's eyes, but probably because Dan was not stupid and Neil was apparently offending her with that request 

Neil knew it would be a long shot to ask her. It wasn't about how gullible she was. However, Neil really needed a bathtub and none of the others had one. 

Dan's silence was enough of an answer for Neil, but he still had to ask, “Do you know anyone with a bathtub who wouldn't mind us using it?” 

“I'll ask Katelyn,” Dan said in a weary sigh and Neil almost groaned, but decided instead to just nod grimly. 

Katelyn wasn't that bad, per se, she was just… extremely chatty. Her constant verbal stream of consciousness grated at Neil's nerves the only time he'd made the mistake of going to her to get some herbs. It became even worse when she had moved to Neil's building because 'the energy was better here'. 

Andrew had detested her on sight. Neil had no idea what she'd told him the only time he’d seen her near Andrew—Neil had been getting his mail from his mailbox, Andrew waited for him on the lobby and Katelyn had walked in laughing with her friends. The only thing Neil knew was that whatever she said had something to do with one of Katelyn's friends. Andrew hadn't offered to inform him and Neil wasn't curious about Katelyn at all. Blessedly, she stayed away from Neil's apartment after, always afraid of finding Andrew there. 

Neil wondered if now he'd have to deal with her around a lot more. He seriously hoped he wouldn't. 

When Dan called her though, Katelyn had “gleefully” agreed to lend her bathtub to the cause. Neil had sighed and gone up to Katelyn's floor, towing an unenthusiastic Aaron with him. 

The first thing Katelyn had offered when she opened her door was her condolences to both Neil and Aaron—not in a suspicious way, not disrespectful at all towards Andrew. Just an empathetic, “I'm sorry for your loss.” 

The only reason Neil hadn't told her to shove her condolences where the sun didn't shine was because he would break her entire bathroom in seconds. Also, he'd gain nothing for being an asshole to her. Also, Dan would probably make a disappointed face at him if Katelyn rattled. 

One thing that was mildly entertaining was the way she rambled all the way from her front door to the doorway of her bathroom, giving Aaron wide-eyed looks as he engaged with her small talk, especially because he was gentle and polite. Neil knew she was comparing and he wanted to poke Aaron just to show his nasty side. 

In the end, Neil just filled her bathtub silently and gritted his teeth. When it had enough water, Neil shooed her out of her own bathroom, closing the door with Aaron inside. 

“Thank you for letting us use your bathroom, but I'm gonna need you to go away.” Katelyn opened her mouth to protest, a tiny frown forming on her forehead, but Neil cut her quickly. “This is gonna be a lot for Aaron. The last energy around him, the better. Dan and Matt are in my apartment, if you want somewhere to go.” 

Katelyn closed her mouth and analyzed Neil's innocent face. 

“OK,” she said, after a long period of staring. “Don't forget to call me if you need anything.” 

Neil gave her a humorless, toothless smile. “I will.” 

He didn't open the bathroom door until she'd gone through her front door. For a second, he considered letting the door open, but after a while he decided that the was best to keep the destruction to one single place only. 

So Neil looked back at Aaron, who was giving him a suspicious look from nearby the bathtub, and told Aaron to get in the bathtub. 

“With my clothes on?” 

“Of fucking course,” Neil answered, disgusted. “I don't want to see you naked.” 

Aaron was clearly enraged by that answer but also, there was nothing he could reply that would make his question sound better. He wordlessly but angrily took his shoes off, breathed deeply and got inside the bathtub. 

"Put your entire body underwater," Neil said and watched as Aaron did it reluctantly after gulping his last big breath. 

Last not being a term used lightly. 

Neil could only imagine what Aaron felt when Neil told him to put his entire body underwater and then didn't let him get up when his air supply got shorter and shorter. When he couldn’t breathe anymore. Aaron trashed around in the water, fighting for real against Neil's restrictive hand in his chest, but he wasn't half as strong as Andrew. Neil could hold him _easily_. 

Unfortunately, part of the process is that it wouldn't help Aaron if Neil told him that he wouldn't really drown him. Aaron needed to believe that Neil _was _going to kill him, or he wouldn't _leave _the dimension at all. 

Aaron needed to truly believe that his brother's asshole boyfriend would kill him in a bathtub. 

One moment, Aaron was thrashing around in the water. 

In the other, Neil was being thrown out of the way, the bathtub exploding and throwing water and pieces of ceramic to every corner of the bathroom and Aaron was gasping, and smoking and groaning, “Oh… my God… so many… souls… oh fuck…” 

Aaron's voice started to get quieter and quieter as his mind kept trying to deal with what he saw. 

Neil watched as Aaron got obviously more and more into his head, but after a few minutes it got pretty boring. Neil then hauled a mostly unresponsive Aaron from the ground and half-dragged him to the kitchen, propping him in one of Katelyn's chairs and sitting in front of him. 

“So many souls,” Aaron rasped out, almost falling to his left but being caught by Neil just in time. 

“Yeah… It's overwhelming at first, but you get used to it after a while,” Neil said, not caring to add that most people who could see that stuff got introduced to Hell a lot younger than Aaron. 

“Are they all bad people?” 

Neil rolled his eyes. _We've been through this argument already_, he wanted to say, but decided to just shrug. 

“I don't know. If you were baptized and broke the rules, you get your penance. Andrew is there though. Do you think he was bad?” 

Aaron swallowed on nothing, and didn't answer. Neil rose from the chair he'd sat down and went to find a clean glass to fill with tap water. Aaron drank it in three big gulps, squeezing the glass hard when he was finished, enough to make his hands shake. 

“What happens now?” Aaron asked. 

“You see them and they see you too.” 

“But why do I need to see them?” Aaron said and Neil rolled his eyes at how whiny he sounded. 

“Because your brother wanted you to,” Neil crossed his arms and looked to the side. “It probably will help to keep you alive or something now that Andrew isn't here to obsess over your safety.” 

Or maybe Aaron will be an essential part in discovering what the fuck was happening, but Neil seriously doubted Aaron's usefulness. 

“How do you know he would do something for that reason?” Aaron's voice finally had some proper emotion in it, although not a desirable one—resentment was never something that Neil admired after all. “You didn't even know I existed. He probably didn't care about me or Nicky all that much if he kept his life split like this.” 

To say that Neil wanted to punch Aaron right then would be an understatement. He wanted to make his fist go through Aaron's guts, he wanted to make Aaron's body cave under his hands. Neil wanted to destroy him just because, apparently, even though they were twins, Aaron was too fucking stupid to understand how his brother worked _at all_. 

“What good would it have done to your relationship if he told you he was dating an Exorcist?” Neil's voice shook with the effort to not yell. “Would you have believed him? Or thought he was fucking crazy? Do I have to remind you that your prejudice has been a reoccurring theme through anything I try to fucking explain to you? What do your eyes tell you now, you fucking _doorknob_?” 

Aaron opened his mouth but closed it very quickly. 

“Yeah, that's what I thought,” Neil said, voice almost too low to be heard. “You know, I would never attempt to speak for Andrew. But it's fucking ungrateful of you to sit there and think you weren't important enough in Andrew's life that he'd commit a sin,_ two sins_ over you. That he wouldn't keep someone he cared about hidden from you just on the chance that it might make your relationship worse.” 

“Aren't you angry though? He _lied_ to you.” 

“If lies of omission were a reason for one of us to break up with the other, Andrew would have dumped me a long time ago,” Neil said in a dry voice. “I never needed to know everything about his life to love him. Whatever he wanted to share with me would be more than enough.” 

Neil took a deep breath and squeezed his nails into his palms—hard enough to hurt, probably hard enough to bleed. '_Had been _more than enough.' He sighed out and completed his thought in a loud murmur. “We had time to learn about each other. We'd been together for only three years.” 

And now there was no more time at all. 

Neil got up with Andrew's words about revenge swirling in his head. He left Aaron to stew in his own thoughts and went to the bathroom to try to dry it a little. Not because he wanted to be nice but just in case Dan got onto his back for destroying Katelyn's bathroom and not even trying to make something better. 

After a while, Aaron appeared in the doorway. Still shaky, he started to pick the pieces of the bathtub and put them aside in a pile. 

While they worked, they traded bits and pieces of information about Andrew. 

Aaron told him that sometimes, Andrew would go on trips and come back—not smiley, but definitely relaxed. The few times Aaron was able to recall were times Andrew had been with Neil. 

Neil told Aaron what Andrew had told him about his mother's murder. Aaron told him that Andrew had promised to make her stop beating him up and he hadn't believed him, even when his mother wasn't alive anymore. 

“I was angry for a long time because it didn't look like he'd helped at all,” Aaron confessed. “I'm not sure I approve of his method.” 

“Disapproving them is dumb of you,” Neil commented, twisting the rag he'd been using onto a bucket he'd found in the bathroom and ignoring Aaron's scowl. “Andrew wouldn't let you be abused if he'd promised you something. If he or involved, it'd be to end it permanently. Would you have your career today if your mother was still alive to abuse you?” 

Aaron scowled harder but didn't snap back. He expelled air angrily through his nose, but said, "I know," lowly. 

Aaron told Neil about how he discovered Andrew’s existence—through his uncle, and Aaron had been excited enough to write a tentative letter asking to meet Andrew, just to be told to fuck off. 

Neil smiled, and told Aaron about the first time he met Andrew—a tennis racquet was involved. Mainly with Neil’s stomach, but whatever. 

Aaron chuckled lightly until Neil asked how Andrew had ended up in a mental institution. 

“Violent reaction to homophobic remarks towards Nicky,” Aaron said and then paused. “In hindsight, it might have been a little personal to him.” 

He gave Neil a significant look, but Neil shook his head. 

“Andrew wouldn’t fight for himself like that,” Neil said not bothering to hide his disapproval. He’d been on Andrew’s case over how little he cared about himself at all. “He definitely did it for your cousin.” 

Aaron opened his mouth and then slowly closed it again. Not long after, his shoulders dropped. “He did really care about us, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Neil sighed and wrung the cloth with enough strength that his fingers burned. This with Aaron wasn't a friendship but it definitely felt like a truce. Neil refused to care about Aaron in any emotional capacity _ever_ but he had to admit it felt good to have it confirmed that what he had with Andrew was something _good. _Neil had had a positive impact on his life. 

Even dead, Andrew was as present as ever in Neil's awareness. It still felt like Neil was stretching and stretching and feeling Andrew on the other side of the universe, his mirrored foundation tower. 

He wondered how long it would take for the feeling to disappear. 

Something started to ring then. It took an embarrassing long time for Neil to notice it was his own phone. He took it out of his pockets and saw Kevin’s name on the screen. 

“Yeah?” Neil said. 

“You better come down,” Kevin said without preamble. “Renee and Seth found out some interesting things.” 

* * *

Neil and Aaron rushed to finish the bathroom and practically ran to get down to Neil's apartment. 

Still, when they got there and Renee started speaking, Neil had a real hard time believing in what she was saying. 

Seth wasn’t present, obviously (because he hated getting outside his cave as much as he hated… Neil had no idea what to compare it to because Seth literally hated _everything_),so Renee was relaying everything that they’d found together. 

“A soldier demon?” Matt repeated for the fourth time and Renee nodded at him for the fourth time, even though his voice had been getting fainter and fainter. “In Los Angeles?” 

Renee nodded patiently. “And a lower demon in the shape of a bunch of insects being destroyed in New York. It was only one lower demon, nothing like Neil described, but…” 

“This is _insane_,” Kevin argued, his voice annoyingly doubtful. “The wager…” 

“It’s clearly being broken by one side,” Neil interrupted him, not caring about the dark look Kevin threw at him. It wasn’t like what Neil was saying was sacrilegious. Heaven and Hell had a game of influence, and the rules stated that there wasn’t going to have any _direct_ influence at all. Still, here they were. At least three separate instances where _demons _were trying to pass through to their dimension. 

It wasn’t supposed to be _allowed_. 

Still, it had happened. 

What was even more bonkers was the lack of reaction from Upstairs. Such a blatant disrespect of the rules should’ve elicited _at least _a few thunders. Some dark clouds of discontent. Yet the skies remained cheerfully blue and uneventful. 

Baffling, to say the least. 

Nicky opened his mouth to say something, and Allison tried to silence him with a single look. 

Not to be deterred, Nicky said, “Erm, what is the difference between lower demons and soldier demons?” 

“Their ugliness,” Allison said condescendingly, but Renee actually took pity on Nicky. 

“Lower demons have names and are individuals. Some of them are mentioned in the Bible. Soldier demons are tormentors in Hell, with no eyes but powerful noses. They are sometimes called hounds.” 

“Soldier demons are really a lot uglier than lower demons,” Aaron added and Nicky raised his eyebrows. “To give you an idea, when Renee says 'sightless', you have to understand that that means they have no forehead and absolutely nothing from the nose up. Their brains are also sort of exposed.” 

There were general noises of agreement to what was a fairly good description of soldier demons, even if it made Nicky a little green around the edges. That would make Nicky stop questioning anything he didn't understand for a while. Or, at least, that was what Neil hoped for. 

Aaron went back to trying to process his new situation, thankfully. Katelyn was sitting close to him, almost plastered to his side, and it was clear even to Neil that what she would have preferred to be doing was hugging Aaron. 

Although Aaron had seemed responsive earlier to her, now he was clearly in his own little world. 

Neil couldn't be certain, but he wished fervent that Aaron would be at least as good of a psychic as Andrew. Yes, Renee was a powerful clairvoyant, and so was Seth, but Andrew would have come up with at least three possible key events already in the time all of them had simply been doing no— 

Neil took a deep breath. That was not helpful. What they needed to do was find someone who had more reach than them. Someone who could maybe verify those two events with Downstairs, or at least shed some light on what the fuck was happening. 

Someone who would definitely be interested in finding a little more about Andrew’s death, at least. 

Neil sighed. He didn’t want to suggest it, mainly because it was going to be alcohol poured on an open wound, but he turned to the group and, with a weary voice, said, “Maybe some of us should head to Eden’s Twilight.” 

Kevin, Matt and Dan groaned. Renee didn’t react, obviously, because she _knew _it would come to this. 

“I’m not going,” Allison declared and shuddered. “I refuse to step onto that place.” 

“You don't need to,” Neil said and crossed her arms. “But I do think it'd be helpful to go there.” 

“That place gives me the fucking creeps,” Matt shuddered and Dan put a soothing hand on his shoulder. 

Aaron's eyes looked far away but then all of a sudden, they focused on Neil. Aaron nodded, and Neil knew he'd made the right suggestion. 

Now he needed it to bring the right results. 

“Uhhhh,” Nicky asked hesitantly. “Is that place some kind of different church?” 

The silence that reigned had an almost palpable mirth to it. Neil turned to look at Nicky and said, “You’ll find out. You’re coming with us, after all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
So.  
First of all, thank you for reading, go yell at me on [tumblr](http://polzkadotz.tumblr.com) for the absurd wait, dont forget to like, comment, subscribe, adpocalypse, end of the chapter spiel.  
Secondly, this took forever because of two reasons: university ate me for breakfast, lunch, snacktime, dinner and lemme tell you, dinner? it was FULL COURSE. I wrote 15k in three days, i had to do three presentations while SICK and ALMOST PASSING OUT and at one point during the last presentation, when I was talking about Margaret Thatcher's economic measures, I had to say, "England had some antagonistic relations with some other European countries, and I have to sit down because I'm going to pass out" and my professor had to finish my presentation for me while the rest of my group was paralyzed thinking, "Should we stop and help them?????"  
Spoiler allert, we finished the presentation and my final grade on the subject was 8/10.  
However, any confidence I had to work on Constantine was shot to hell. First order of business was to get healthy, second was to drink a shit-ton because i survived the worst semester i've had as of yet and i needed to fucking let loose and hope my fourth and last year of university wouldn't be as bad. Thirdly, I had to get a new piercing, and fourthly i had to develop a enormous doubt on my writing skills.  
I felt like everything i'd ever written was complete garbage. That i was mediocre at best and that this au, one that i had poured A LOT of thought on, wasn't worth being continued. Lastly, the fact that I don't have any kind of pressure from a deadline on this means that I simply never make time to work on it. EVER. This chapter is only coming to you because i said to myself, "You're going to post before the end of the year, Asas, or i'll CRUSH you!"  
Today is December 31th, so fuck you past Asas, you wont destroy me.  
From now on, this fic will be updated every fucking monday. This is the new deadline for the remaining 4 chapters. So now, i ask of you that PLEASE. Fucking bombard me on my tumblr, or my [twitter](http://twitter.com/polzka_dotz) if thats your gem, but DONT LET ME GET AWAY WITH MISSING MY DEADLINE. For this fic, y'all are my new bosses. I feel honoured to work with you.  
So... i'll see you on January 6th!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
A club is visited and an old... friend spawns. More than one old friend? (also, minor character death offscreen. Oops)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
yes, technically it's not January 6th where i live, but its still january 6th somewhere in the world  
thats to say im SO SORRY but i reread the chapter, found a plot hole and spent the day REWRITING THE WHOLE THING :3 which means its also unbetaed oh GOD

The discussion to decide who was actually staying and who was going to Eden’s Twilight was stilted and full of evasive glances. In the end, Seth had brilliant timing and called Allison when Kevin and Dan had been going off on each other about who should go where. Whatever Seth had to say was important enough to make Allison drag Renee away with her with basically no explanation to what the fuck was happening. 

Not that Renee would have wanted to go with Neil anyway. Too many people at Eden’s held grudges against her. She’d be safe inside because Roland enforced his rules, but… still. It would be unwise. 

“We’ll call you!” Renee promised, and the door slammed behind her with a finality that made the following silence much louder than normal. 

It didn’t last long, though. In the end, it was decided that Matt and Dan stayed at Neil’s apartment, trying to find anything that could help them in Andrew’s notebooks. Neil felt slightly bad about it—letting them read something that Andrew had protected violently throughout his entire life was sacrilegious to him—, but there was no other way. They _needed_ guidance. 

That was also why Neil thought they had to go see Roland. There would be more chances to find out what was going on if they threw their nets wide onto the preternatural world. Also, Neil doubted that Roland would even _care _to listen to any of the others without an appointment; Neil wasn’t Roland’s favorite, but they were friends. Sort of. 

So although it felt a little like betrayal, Neil left the pile of notebooks he’d already read in his bed and brought the rest back to his table. Matt and Dan gave twin looks of commiseration as they sat down. 

Maybe Dan and Matt would have more luck than Neil had, and Neil would try not to let it hurt his pride if they ended up finding something. 

Although… _The Black One_. What a shitty tip. Honestly, Andrew was a fucking asshole. 

It was good that only four of them were going to Eden’s Twilight. Neil knew that Andrew would hate the symbolism, because he hated symbolism of any kind even though he knew it had _power_, but… there were signs pointing to the eminent Apocalypse. Walking into places in a group of four people was a symbol on its own. It would be better if they had horses, but Roland would already be angry at the fact that Neil was bringing two uninitiated people into his club. The fewer reasons given to antagonize him, the better. 

They piled up in Andrew’s car, Neil on the driving seat. Driving Andrew’s car again was, to say the least, an experience. Neil had vetoed any attempts on turning on the radio, so Nicky decided to keep a stream of chatter that Neil ignored—or rather, couldn't really _pay attention to _at all. Nothing Nicky had to say would be enough to distract Neil from the sheer amount of aware of _Andrew _everywhere in the small space of the Maserati. 

The key chain that kept brushing his wrist as he drove one handed, the scent his nose kept picking up and firing fireworks inside Neil’s brain, the amount of _candy wrappers _littering the car’s crevices. Neil wasn’t even going to mention the tiny charm that he himself had dangled into the rear view mirror, but it was… a lot. Neil couldn’t help but to be overwhelmed by all of it. It felt like it would take forever to get near Eden’s Twilight. 

Andrew's car had become a private liminal space for Neil, but after nine eternities, Neil parked in front of the club to let everybody off and quickly went to the Eden’s private parking lot. 

When he came back, it was obvious that the security guard at the door didn’t want to give entrance to some of them. Kevin had already gone through, so he couldn't help either Nicky or Aaron. Neil hopped they remember his explanation on what they should look for in the cards, because Neil couldn't _say _it to them. 

Aaron cleared through easily but Nicky almost stumbled before saying the right password—a rat in a dress. The guard was giving Neil the stinky eye as Neil approached, but Neil didn’t even bother to glare back. The others had given the password on their own and there was nothing that that guy could do other than alert Roland. 

“This is the weirdest club I’ve ever visited,” Nicky commented to Kevin loudly while Neil gave his own password to the security guard, who kept glaring at him as he walked past him. 

“Oh,” Neil said when we approached Nicky, smiling humorlessly. “It’s a unique club experience, I guarantee.” 

They went inside the club in a line, Kevin in front, but it took only three steps for Aaron to freeze in front of Neil, who sidestepped him easily. Nicky however almost shoved Aaron forward when they collided, but he darted a hand to quickly grab his statue of a cousin, keeping themselves standing after a few unstable seconds. To be honest, Neil didn’t think Aaron would’ve noticed if he _had _fallen at all. 

“What’s wrong?” Nicky yelled over the noise of the club. “Why did we stop?” 

Aaron took a shallow breath and turned to look at Neil. Neil calmly gazed back at him. 

“Are they…” 

“Ugly as fuck?” Neil said over whatever Aaron had been intending to say. “They are. This is a neutral place, our own little Switzerland. They aren’t allowed to hurt anyone here, and we aren’t allowed to kill them. Abide to these rules and you'll be fine.” 

“What does that _mean_,” Nicky yelled loud enough to call the attention of two girls kissing on a table next to them. They peered at them with curiosity, though one of them kept giving Neil the stinky eye. Neil didn’t remember her at all, but they might have met. Their professions kind of crossed, after all. “This is just a _normal club._” 

“No, it isn't,” Aaron said, and Neil could almost hear him gulping. “There are demons here.” 

“Don't be dramatic, these aren’t _demons_,” Neil corrected Aaron, grabbing Aaron’s arm so he could shove him in front of the line, so they could keep walking to the right place. “These are all half-breeds. They work by trying to influence puny humans into being better or worse versions of themselves.” 

“Better?” Nicky echoed as he dutifully followed Aaron. His voice almost got lost in the noise of the club, but Neil could hear him ask, “Why would… Demons want us to be better versions of ourselves?” 

“Half-breeds aren’t employed just by Hell, Nicky. Upstairs also has their bastards.” 

Opportunely, Aaron had stopped to stare at a dark-skinned, giant half-breed that was walking beside him, carrying a tray of drinks to a table that was already occupied by three other creatures. Aaron was probably distracted by the fluffy, white, now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t feathers in the man's back, sprouting from his wings. 

The table had three red-eyes creatures, who watched Aaron back hungrily. 

“Why are they… mixing?” 

“Do you understand the concept of _neutral_, Aaron?” Neil shoved him again to make him go back to walking, and Aaron almost fell as he passed through the door that Kevin was keeping open. All of them went through it and, when Kevin closed the door behind them, the noise of the club was brought down to a rumbling, buzzing distant sound. 

Aaron wasted a few moments to look around the bare room, with nothing that interested him other than the other door on the opposite side of where they were, and then he turned to snarl at Neil silently, mixing his anger for being pushed around with his own brand of bigotry. 

“They shouldn't be _together_,” Aaron insisted, his expression getting more and more disgusted. 

“Because the world is _that _black and white, huh?” Neil scoffed. “It doesn't matter if they want humans to be good or bad. All of them know that how they feel about each other is irrelevant. What matter is to focus on who has more influence.” 

“I can't believe you're basically describing a war of _Influencers_,” Nicky ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Do they also use the Internet? It would be kind of hilarious if any of them had an Instagram account.” 

“I would ask what instagrams are, but I don't care enough about it,” Neil commented and watched as Nicky turned to give him an incredulous look. Before Nicky could say anything though, a person came out from the door on the other side of the room—a half-breed, from the Upstairs side, who took one look at Neil and Kevin and marched quickly to get away from them. 

After a few dramatic seconds, Roland came through the door. He put both of his arms up on his doorway and just stayed there immobile for a few moments. Neil watched as he absorbed Kevin with an uninterested look, but when Roland's eyes turned to Aaron and Nicky, it was almost palpable how he ate them with his eyes. 

Especially Aaron. 

Was Roland capable of seeing immediate differences between the twins? Were their energies different enough to be that much of a tell? 

Roland turned to glare at Neil through the slit that his eyes had turned into and well. Neil thought the answer to that was _maybe_. 

Roland didn't say anything as he turned his back on them and went back to his office, leaving his door open invitingly. Kevin and Neil shared twin looks of exasperation, but they did follow. 

Neil heard Nicky ask to Aaron, “Is that guy a half-breed?” in a small voice. 

“I… I don't know,” Aaron replied, but Neil could sense a hint of fear in his voice. He didn't know what Roland was, but he knew he shouldn't be fooled by his exterior. 

Good. 

* * *

To the uninitiated, Roland’s office surely looked like something that _couldn't _be actually real. 

Firstly, it was stopped in time, somewhere around the early 20th century. Roland also had a lot of gold everywhere, and giant rugs hanging on the walls that looked like they came out of fairy-tales. Each rug told its own story, and it looked like a very expensive one. Roland also had a rack of bottles, and Neil knew they were all filled with different types of alcohol, but none of them were _normal looking _bottles. It made people wonder. 

The lighting of the room didn't help, painting everything in hues of red. Andrew had once said it looked like a cheap porn studio set, which had made Roland cackle. There was some stuff that broke that image though, like the tiny fountain on the corner of one table looked like blood flowing freely. 

Aaron and Nicky couldn’t keep their eye in a single spot. They simply looked everywhere for at least a second, trying to make sense of everything they were seeing. Unfortunately for them, the uninitiated received very little information to what made Roland the being that he was. 

Especially the uninitiated who was _technically _trespassing on Roland's club. 

“Explain yourselves,” Roland said in a bland voice, eyes firmly locked on Aaron, who had finally noticed the weight and was looking a bit bother by it. He looked at Neil and Kevin, but Neil didn't give two shits about his discomfort. 

“Before explaining ourselves,” Neil gulped and wondered if this was going to get easy one day. He doubted. “I need to inform you that Andrew is dead.” 

Roland finally stopped looking at Aaron, turning to Neil with a look that was said he was clearly expecting the punchline to land. When Neil kept himself quiet, his look turned incredulous. 

“Dead?” Roland repeated, raising an eyebrow when Neil nodded at him. “Well, that can't be true. Downstairs has been awfully quiet, and they would _riot and rally_ if Andrew had finally made his way home.” 

Before Neil could react to it, Aaron had marched towards Roland and gotten on his face. Roland’s eyebrow went even higher, and one of his curls moved out of his face when Aaron snarled “Hell is _not _Andrew's home!” angrily enough. Aaron’s body shook as he forced himself to use one single finger to punctuate his words on Roland's desk. It felt like he wanted to carve those words into the wood, make them as real as he wished they were. 

“Hell is the home to most sinners, which Andrew _was,_” Roland argued calmly. “Take your chihuahua away from me, Josten. He's a step away from breaking the rules and I don't think he'd enjoy what I could do to him.” 

Neil knew that Roland didn’t really mean that _sexually_, but if there was something that Roland loved was being ambiguous. It did help that that was enough to get Aaron away from him without Neil’s intervention. 

Aaron didn’t bother to hide the disgusted look on his face. Neil could be exasperated with Aaron’s not at all veiled homophobia, but at least in this context it was useful to avoid bloodshed and complications. 

“Well, what do you want me to do with that information, Josten?” Roland said, all business-like as he obviously ignored Aaron's entire existence. “It's not like I can resurrect him.” 

“Which is not what I'm after,” Neil said and approached Roland's table. “Did you notice that the balance has been broken?” 

With Roland’s subtle stunned silence, Neil told him about all the odd occurrences they had been able to find, letting Andrew for last. Roland heard everything, but the moment Neil said, “So we’re here to ask that you let us use the chair now that all bets are off,” Roland started to shake his head. 

“Josten, that doesn't prove anything.” Neil opened his mouth to argue—to fight—but Roland raised one single finger in warning and kept talking. “I'm sorry for your loss. Genuinely, I am. But I don't see anything _concrete_ there.” 

“So you're saying that the fact that I saw _lower demons _flying to swarm a psychic here _on fucking Palmetto _is _not_, technically, against the deal?” 

“I'm saying that it's not enough to start anything on, especially from someone who you know is _neutral. _I don’t help _either _side.” Roland’s eyes had an incredibly sympathetic gleam in them and Neil wanted nothing more than to gouge them from Roland's face. There was a firm, confident knock on the door that called Roland’s attention briefly away from Neil. “That would be my appointment. Something that maybe you should've done?” 

Nobody moved, not even Roland. Neil kept breathing, trying to reign himself in. 

“Let me get this straight,” Neil said in a quiet, almost bland voice. “You're saying that you won't help? _At all_? Even though you have an unpaid debt with Andrew?” 

“As I already told you, there's nothing to be done because no rules has been _openly _broken,” Roland got up and went to the door. “You know how both sides like to feign some kind of attack from time to time. Also, as I have already told you, I don't do resurrections. Andrew won't come back to collect on any debt.” 

Roland opened the door and in walked Jean. He was dressed in his usual all black with a red tie outfit, dark hair all swept back and pale skin looking ghostly under the glow of the red lights. For a second, his eyes glowed a ring of red and Aaron audibly swallowed on nothing. Kevin froze while Neil couldn't help but snarl. 

The fact that Jean didn’t express anything other than disdain for them was the cherry on top, to be honest. Jean had absolutely _no reason _to look that way at the people who fucking saved him from _another _half-breed—one that was more _dedicated to their mission_, one might say. After all, Jean’s purpose be Earth had been to try to tip the scales towards Hell’s side, but in the last few years Jean had an _angelic _half-breeds for a boyfriend, who was very good at distracting him. Jean hadn’t been punished yet because it was recent, but all of them knew that he was treading on very thin ice. 

“Neil Josten, Kevin Day, Andrew Minyard and a nobody,” Jean said in a deadpan voice. Neil stared at Jean for a few moments, waiting for him to notice his mistake, but it didn’t happen. “Sometimes, I hate that your dedication to neutrality brings trash to our attention, Papa Midnite.” 

“No need for formalities, Jean, you know you should call me Roland. Also, the… Guests are on their way out.” 

Neil gritted his teeth but he didn’t argue with Roland. It would be useless and at least they _tried._ So they were obediently walking in a line out of Roland’s office—Kevin in front, then Nicky, then Aaron and lastly Neil. Jean didn't even watch as Kevin walked past him, mostly because they _still _hadn’t sat down to talk about what happened to them under Riko’s, the dedicated half-breed, hands. Nicky was just as uninteresting as Kevin for Jean. 

Aaron, however, received a double take and, when Neil tried to go through, Jean got a hold of his arm and pulled him closer to his tall frame. Neil tried to yank his arm away, but Jean had a good, smoking hold—as in he was actively _burning _through Neil’s clothes. 

Neil hissed but stayed still without even needing a word from Roland as he looked up at Jean’s eyes. Jean _knew _Neil wasn't the biggest fan of fire. Still, there he was, burning through Neil’s shirt as if whatever he wanted was the priority here. To be honest, Neil didn’t even think he’d _noticed._

“That's not _votre copain_,” Jean said, changing languages in the middle of the sentence when he noticed Aaron looking back. 

“That’s his twin brother,” Neil replied, in English, not giving a fuck about Jean ugly look at him. 

“What happened to Andrew?” 

“He's dead.” 

Jean’s eyes widen a bit but he quickly covered it up with a bored expression. 

“Well,” Jean said after a few seconds of silence, but at least he wasn’t burning Neil’s arm anymore. However, whatever courtesy Neil was extending towards Roland and his rules were over when Jean made a conflicting expression on his face and said, “I did feel the smell of new meat recently. Can’t wait to get back and dine.” 

Without even _thinking _about it, Neil had shoved a blade onto Jean’s neck—not to cut, but to press the holy symbol engraved on it onto Jean’s skin. Jean hissed when his skin started to burn and Neil saw real fear on his eyes. 

Well. Jean should’ve not used fire and a barb towards Neil’s _dead boyfriend_ if he intended to get answers out of a _nice _Neil. 

“Do _not disrespect the rules of my home, _Josten!” Roland roared, and Neil could feel him raising power at his back. 

“No, Roland,” Jean tried to say but his voice sounded wrong. Neil raised the blade from Jean’s neck and there was a perfect imprint of the blade there. Neil hadn’t meant to press that hard but… what’s done is done. “It’s alright. I was out of line, provoking him. He is not overreacting and I apologize.” Jean took a deep breath that made him cough. Something in his throat was, apparently, _not _alright. “For both of you.” 

Neil could feel the power behind him shimmering and dimming to nothing but smoldering heat. With the apology and the lack of a threat behind him, Neil faltered in his anger for a second and then, with a sigh, he slowly put his blade away. 

“Why do you care if that’s not Andrew?” 

“You're _always _with him when you come here,” Jean paused, as if thinking hard on how to phrase what was, possibly, the worst thing he’d ever asked from Neil. “May I ask who killed him?” 

“We’re investigating.” 

Jean opened his mouth, but Neil's phone took that as a cue to start ringing. Neil fished it out of his pocket, flipped it open and there was Allison's name splashed on the tiny screen. Neil frowned and looked up at Jean. “I have to take this.” 

“Stay until after I'm done with Papa… Roland,” Jean said and his voice was serious. “I won't take much of your time, but I need to speak to you about some rumors. They might help you.” 

Neil frowned at Jean, but his phone decided to stop ringing right then, and Jean gently pushed him out of the room. When the door closed, his phone started to ring once more, now with Renee’s name. 

Neil picked it up and just from the sigh of relief on Renee’s end, he knew it wouldn’t be good news. 

“Neil?” Renee said, sadness clear in her voice. Neil could also hear someone sobbing uncontrollably in the background. Neil’s stomach plummeted to the ground. “Seth's dead. We just found his body in his work room.” 

Kevin was looking attentively at Neil, probably trying to read something from Neil’s sudden tense shoulders. To spare himself from the scrutiny, Neil mouthed, _Seth died_. Aaron was right by Kevin, so he saw it too and he frowned in confusion. Neil doubted he remembered who Seth was. 

Kevin on the other hand sort of collapsed a little against the wall at his back, which made Aaron turn to pay attention to him. Neil turned a little so he wouldn’t be distracted. He needed to focus on what they were going to do _now_. 

“Have you touched anything yet?” Neil asked Renee. 

“There's absolutely nothing in anything,” Renee’s voice sounded frustrated which was rare. “I keep… hitting walls. Nothing here shows me any information on what he was working.” 

Neil opened his mouth to say something, and then he noticed movement from the corner of his eyes. 

Aaron wasn't beside Kevin anymore. Aaron was walking… no, _stalking _towards Neil, each step carefully thought-out as he concentrated on a point slightly higher than Neil’s head. 

Neil didn't bother to look up. He knew there would be nothing there because he knew what that expression meant. 

“Neil?” Renee asked suddenly in Neil’s ear, almost making him jump. “Are you still there?” 

“Yes,” Neil answered in the softest voice he was capable of. “Wait a second, though. I think Aaron's having a vision.” 

That brought both Nicky’s and Kevin’s attention towards both of them and they watched as Aaron walked towards Neil with fear and interest, respectively. 

Neil just concentrated on Aaron’s face, waiting for clues. He knew Andrew’s, but Aaron was reacting to whatever he was seeing… differently. Andrew closed himself off, and just relayed what he was experiencing. Aaron, however, didn’t know how to separate himself from what he was seeing, and it didn’t take long for hom to start smiling—but it wasn’t a normal smile. It also wasn’t an _unfamiliar _smile. Neil shivered with uneasiness. He knew that smile but… from where? 

Aaron slowly put his hand in the back pockets of his pants and brought it back with nothing in it. Regardless, his fingers started to move as if he had something there, playing with it almost lazily. Neil understood the logic of the motions, even if there was no object to accompany it: Aaron was mimicking someone playing with a switchblade. 

“Neil,” Aaron said quietly, distantly. “Tell Renee to take three steps back.” 

Neil told her and waited until she said, “Done.” 

“Now tell her to start slowly turning towards her left,” Aaron said, not waiting for Neil to tell him she’d already done it. Neil knew that if Aaron’s powers were anything like Andrew’s, he was _there_, with Renee. Not only now, but also in the past, maybe even in the future. “I'll tell her to stop when…” his voice trailed off as Neil relayed it back to Renee. 

The soft, “Turning, turning,” chant that Renee was whispering let Neil know that she was doing it very slowly. It took three other deep breaths from Neil until Aaron said, “Stop!” and Neil repeated it immediately. 

“Tell her to crouch and reach down.” 

Renee gasped when she did and Neil immediately called her name, but got no response whatsoever other than the distant sobs from Allison. It took forever until Renee was freed from her vision and through it all, Aaron kept playing and playing with nothing in his hand. 

At the exact same time that Renee gasped in Neil’s ear, the door to Roland’s office opened. Jean came out first, but he froze when he saw Aaron playing with the air, completely mesmerized by his hand movements. 

Neil suddenly remembered where he knew that smile on Aaron's face from. It was incredible that he'd even forgotten it in the first place. Neil had spent a considerable amount of time under the care of someone who smiled at him like that almost daily, until Neil had finally freed himself and other two people: Jean and Kevin. Neil's excuse was that he’d been drugged and almost delirious from pain when he saw it the most. 

However, now that he’d remembered it, Neil didn’t need Renee to tell him who had been responsible—or at least, _present—_at the time of Seth’s death. 

“Riko was here,” Renee said breathlessly in Neil’s ear. Jean couldn't hear Neil's end of the conversation, but he was still getting paler and paler as he stared at Aaron's hand. 

“Neil…” Jean said, finally looking away from Aaron. 

“We need to talk,” Neil guessed and Jean nodded weakly. 

“We might want to move everybody inside the office, then,” Roland's said, watching Aaron with interest. “Seems like things are going to get interesting.” 

* * *

Everybody sat down this time around in Roland's office, some more confused about these events while others were practically passing out. 

Jean called his boyfriend, Jeremy, who had been waiting for him outside the office, waiting in the club and was now watching the proceedings with a worried look in his eyes. Jeremy also kept staring at Kevin, who also started to act Not So Well after finally connecting the dots between Aaron’s subtle impersonation and the half-breed in his past. 

Aaron in turned had been chugging down vodka directly from the bottle in the corner of the room, and Roland was watching his attentively, probably to intervene if it looked like he was going to lose his grip on the thin neck—or maybe to intervene when Aaron clearly started to push into his limits. Nicky hovered over Aaron, but Neil couldn’t hear what he was whispering. 

Neil let him drink. Aaron just had his first real experience with his powers. He was probably questioning a lot of things about himself, maybe even rethinking some of his ideas about Andrew. Neil fucking hoped so, in a malicious sort of way. Aaron was a bastard who probably self-reflected once every decade. Neil was glad he could witness it so soon after meeting the fucker. 

“So,” Neil said in the not-complete silence of the office. “Riko’s back, huh?” 

Kevin made an inarticulate sound that sounded somewhat painful, but Neil refused to look at him. Jean took a deep breath and let it out loudly through his nose. He nodded after a while and Neil… 

Laughed. It wasn't his intention, but it started with a low chuckle that slowly developed into full-blown laughter. Nobody accompanied him. 

“This is great, you know,” Neil said, sort of giggling in between the words. “That's exactly what needed to happen for this to be fucking _perfect_.” 

“Uhhh…” Nicky started, but Aaron shushed him, and pointed drunkenly on the vague direction of his cousin. 

“No,” he enunciated carefully, and took another swing. A little bit of vodka dribbled from the corner of his mouth but he didn’t wipe it off. “Riko's an asshole and that's all you need to know about him.” 

Nicky audibly closed his mouth and the silence came back alive for a few beats, and then Neil couldn’t contain himself as he turned to Jean. 

Well. At least he wasn’t laughing anymore. 

“Were you going to tell us?” Neil asked Jean. “Or where you gonna let him just sprung on us, give him the element of surprise for old times’ sake?” 

“I didn’t know he was actually back,” It was clear that Jean wanted to rise to Neil’s bait but was carefully holding himself back. His voice still sounded defensive. Jean crossed his arms and dislodged Jeremy’s supporting hand on his shoulder. “I just heard… rumors. There’s something brewing downstairs, but...” 

“You’re almost _persona non-grata _there, I know,” Neil sighed and rubbed two fingers over his temples. “Still, _nothing _about this feels right. First of all, Andrew being sent to the mental health facility, not telling me a fucking word about it, then dying. After that, there was Aaron’s attack and all the other actual demon appearances. And now this: Seth’s dead and Riko, the guy I fucking destroyed years ago, is back and has something to do with it.” 

Neil grunted wordlessly after his rant, frustrated beyond reason. Neil couldn’t stop his thoughts from going all over the place trying to come up with _reasons _and doing nothing but getting Neil fucking lost_._

He finally couldn’t stay still anymore and started to pace Roland’s office. Kevin and Jean started to bounce around ideas about what the fuck was happening even though Hell was Clearly acting up and Heaven was weirdly _silent_, and Neil felt even more lost. If half-breeds were the soldiers of the fight for balance, why weren’t they informed? 

Because who knew all the information was the general, not the cannon fodder. 

There was nothing Neil could do, though. He wasn’t part of it as well, after all. They were all equally in the dark. His expertise lied in _acting, _not thinking about plans too thoroughly.It was a miracle and a blessing that he had friends who had other strengths than him. 

So as he listened to Kevin and Jean throwing hypothesis back and forth, he worried about how Renee and Allison were stuck with police officers crawling everywhere through Seth’s workroom (even though Neil just knew his death would be ruled an accident, suicide or some bullshit like that). He worried about Matt and Dan and oh god had someone even _called _them? 

Neil worried about the look that Roland was giving both Kevin and Jean. Attentive, but passive. He wouldn’t offer suggestion but he would avidly watch whatever was happening. Neil couldn’t help but feeling resentful towards him. How could Roland not see that he was the only one still clinging to his rules? 

Neil’s phone scared most of them with its loud ringing and it was enough to make Neil stop glaring silently at Roland. Neil took it out of his pocket and fumbled to put it on speaker. 

“Neil?” Renee said and Neil internally sighed with relief at being able to put it on speaker without really embarrassing himself all that much. 

“Yes, Renee?” 

Renee took a deep breath and took a while to gather her thoughts. Neil could hear the sound of traffic in the background being intermittently interrupted by quiet sniffles. Seth and Allison hadn’t been together, not for a few months now, but they were still _close_. It had been a case of hurting too much but loving each other enough to know that ending things would be the better path for their future. However, they _worked _on being friends while Allison fell in love again. Seth had been a fucking asshole at first, but it was Renee. 

And through it all, Allison was still the one who went around the world communicating and trading with many of the dodgy clients that Seth had, for _him_. She was his link to pretty much anything. Seth trusted her. 

Allison was probably _destroyed _and Neil felt terrible for how much he understood how she felt. 

“It was ruled as a suicide,” Renee said quietly. “There were a lot of bottles broken and scattered around the floor. Alcohol bottles. They think it interacted with his medicines.” 

Seth had been sober for almost three years now. Something big would’ve had to happen to take him back to that particular coping mechanism. That is, if he went back _voluntarily_. 

“Neil,” Renee’s voice was ominous. “He had the Bible of Hell thrown under his table.” 

_Fuck_, Neil thought to himself, looking up and meeting with Roland’s eyes. It wasn’t Roland though; it was Papa Midnite. Roland was _finally _taking it seriously. 

With a jolt, Neil froze and started to remember the first and only time he’d seen a Bible of Hell. The book almost dripped a tart, viscous black liquid through its pages, although it left no residuous in your fingers. Neil had been informed that all of them looked like that. There weren’t many around the world, but... 

“The Black One,” Neil said out loud, and he could hear all of them who knew holding their breaths. 

They were so fucked. 

“Bring it to my apartment. We’re going there in a few moments.” 

Neil hung up and looked at Roland. “You’re still not going to help us, right?” 

“There’s no concrete _proof_—” Roland said and sounded frustrated, and Neil interrupted him with a scoff. 

“Yeah, right,” Neil looked at Jean. “Can you find Riko for us?” 

Neil ignored the sound that Kevin let out and watched as Jean nodded hesitantly. Neil gestured to the door with his head. Nicky helped Aaron get up from his chair and they slowly made their way to the door without a word, but Kevin was still sort of frozen in his place. 

“Neil…” Kevin said and his voice was almost nothing but a whisper. 

“Not here,” Neil told him. 

“But Neil…” 

“Let’s go,” Neil told him almost angrily. “There’s no help for us here.” 

Roland sighed and Neil saw him open his mouth. “_No_,” Neil snapped and Roland sighed once again. “You’re the only one trying to maintain this farce of a neutrality, Roland. _Something’s happening_ and you already made it clear that you want nothing to do with it. So _fuck you_ very much.” 

Neil was almost at the door when Roland said, “You can use the chair.” 

Neil and Kevin froze. “The Sing Sing Chair?” 

“The good Old Sparky.” Roland smiled but it wasn’t a happy smile. “I won’t get involved more than that.” 

“For now?” Neil prodded, squinting at Roland. 

“For now,” Roland confirmed, rolling his eyes. “If you see something definitive, I’ll intervene. Of course, I will.” 

* * *

There were many things out in the world that were the First of Its Kind. Some firsts were overrated, especially the socially constructed ones, but the physical, tangible First of Its Kind? Some were incredibly important—because they had a special kind of _power_ embedded in them, attractive and worth spending every wealth you had available in your reach to possess it. 

As important as being the First was being the first to be _Named. _Or better yet, the first one who had its name used for _your kind_. 

Neil wouldn’t exactly say that he’d personally spend even one of his cents on an Old Sparky. Yes, it was the name used for a lot of different electric chairs, but still. It had no value for him, as an Exorcist. It had value though, for all the people who wanted to use its connection to death in order to See farther and further, especially those without the Sight. 

Aaron had the Sight, but he wouldn’t know what to look for. 

Nicky didn’t have the Sight, and was _definitely _not equipped to even glimpse the future. 

Kevin was Sightless and unwilling. 

Roland wouldn’t get personally involved, Jean and Jeremy were gone and searching for Riko, so… that left Neil. Even though Matt and Dan had been incredibly frantic when Neil called to tell them the change of plans. 

They were worrying too much. Yes, it was a death machine used to kill more than 600 people over the years. But Neil wouldn’t really _die_, if Roland was quick enough. 

“Are you insane?” Nicky was saying repeatedly, as both Roland and Kevin just walked everywhere from side to side, gathering water, something strong enough to electrocute Neil. You know. Normal things. In the quiet of the closed and locked club though, their quiet scuttering was a little unsettling. “Are you seriously going to electrocute yourself just so you can see into the future?! Are you fucking insane?!” 

Neil stopped taking off his sneakers and focused on Nicky. “Why are you asking? You wanna go in my place?” 

Nicky sputtered and then walked away. Neil thought he was finally going to get some peace, but Aaron approached him silently. He was still swaying a little from the alcohol, but still a lot more sober now. Neil waited for him to say something and, when he didn’t, went back to taking off his shoes. 

“Tell me you’re not doing this for my brother.” 

Neil stopped. “The fuck? Of _course_ I’m doing this for your brother.” 

Aaron slashed his hand through the air and almost lost balance. “You know exactly what I mean. Tell me you aren’t self-destructing because my brother’s gone.” 

Neil was stupefied for a second and then he blinked. “Are you _worried _about me?” 

“Don’t be disgusting,” Aaron’s scrunched up face was the ugliest thing Neil had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but snort. “It’s just… I know Andrew wouldn’t want it.” 

“Yes,” Neil said. “He hated martyrs.” 

Aaron didn’t say anything back, but his eyes prodded Neil. Aaron looked awkward as hell, and a little bit resentful but he didn’t step down. Neil thought about Aaron in the middle of the vision and wonder how _present_ Aaron was right now. Andrew never talked about it, but taking the reins of his powers had been a long process. Aaron was going through it, alone. 

However, Neil also couldn’t help but think… was Aaron seeing something? Was that what encouraged him to come to Neil and ask this? Or was the asshole finally honoring his brother’s memory and at least trying to be respectful. 

Honestly, in the end, it didn’t matter the reason. 

“I’m doing this because something’s wrong,” Neil said firmly, raising his chin to look in Aaron’s eyes. “And I promised Andrew if he was killed, I wouldn’t rest until the killer was dead too. I need to know what’s going on.” 

Aaron clenched his jaw and nodded, after a few seconds of silence, he walked away. 

“Bonding with the in-law?” Roland commented without inflection in his voice. 

Neil didn’t even bother to stop his first reaction. “Fuck off, Roland. Stop stalling.” 

Roland shrugged and threw the water at Neil’s feet. It was cold and Neil couldn’t automatically raised his feet and then glared at Roland while he slowly put them back down. 

“Couldn’t it have been warm, at least?” 

Roland gave him a bland, wordless smile and then Kevin approached with a light bulb and the lamp holder. 

“You’re an idiot,” Kevin said as he passed both of those objects to Roland, who started to assemble the two of them together. 

“Not really,” Neil said and a smiled slashed through his face as Roland hit the light bulb on the wall, tiny pieces of glass exploding in mesmerizing sparkles. “I’d say that I’m _ruthless_, actually.” 

“Are you ready?” Roland asked and Neil nodded. As if he was using it as a harpoon, Roland put his arm back and sank the exposed electrical bits of the light bulb into the water at Neil’s feet. Neil’s entire body _clenched_ and it was too painful to— 

Travelling through dimensions on a cat’s eyes was a thousand times more gentle than this torture. Neil was agonizing, but not too much that he wouldn’t be able to— 

A man, in the desert. Neil didn’t know him but he looked behind after him after being run over with a fucking car, and it was almost like he could see _Neil_, see— 

A spear. First of Its Kind, as well. The spear on the man’s hand was _wrong— _

His eyes were _black, black, the Black One_— 

Neil knew he wasn’t the father, but he wanted the father’s power. He wanted to reign. He would walk and walk but the body he was occupying would still crumble, he needed someone _strong_, supernaturally— 

Andrew. Andrew knowing that the man was focusing on him, Andrew being able to fight him off, and off and off, until they started to drug him at Easthaven and _wasn’t that almost a perfect name_, Andrew whispered and then he jumped—was _pushed_, the son still didn’t know how to control his powers in a body too weak to sustain him— 

But there was Other. 

The man was going to get the Other at the same place that he lost the First—the man, _the _man— 

First of Its Kind. 

Andrew and Aaron. 

Neil was thrown out of the vision and he promptly passed out. 

* * *

He woke up in _minutes_, gasping and throwing wild punches. 

Roland was too close to him but not close enough that one of Neil’s fist could hit him, just close enough that his powers could work through Neil’s body. It felt alien, _wrong_. Neil breathed, “Back off, asshole,” and Roland did, with an eye-roll that wasn’t able to mask his _relief._

“At least you didn’t die,” Roland commented and Neil laughed weakly. 

“Don’t worry, I wish I was dead,” Neil croaked and beckoned Kevin closer. “Phone,” he asked and was quickly obliged. 

Neil’s shaky fingers had a bit of trouble finding the contact, but soon his phone screen had the _Calling Renee… _almost blinding him. 

When she picked it up, Neil didn’t even let her say his name and he was rattling, “Look for the son in the Bible.” 

“The son?” 

“Yes, the Devil’s son,” Neil looked at Roland. “He’s trying to break through and rule over our world. He needs a stronger body than what he has. Andrew was strong enough, but…” 

“He sacrificed himself,” Renee said gently, and Neil almost said _sort of_, because now he knew that Andrew was really going to jump but also had _indeed _had some help by being accidentally pushed. 

And Andrew claimed he hated martyrs. Neil couldn’t wait for the end of the world, so he could mock Andrew _forever._

That thought didn’t last long, though. “Try to find something to stop him, Renee. He’s been without a strong enough body for a few days, but now…” Neil trailed off and then stared at Aaron. “Now he might have another chance.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
i dont have brain cells left after editing this. if you see some typo tho, please tell me. Also if something wasn't clear, also tell me. This is probably gonna be edit in the future cuz, honestly? T'is but a feverish dream. Or something. Ugh


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
They say they are fucked a lot.  
Also, there's a little bit of violence in this chapter and a little bit of kidnapping. One rear windshield was harmed in the writing of this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
this is a little bit late and again i have more explanations, excuses! If you care to hear what's happening, go to the end notes. Also, THIS CHAPTER IS REALLY LONG. IM SO SORRY IN ADVANCE.  
TRIGGER WARNING: There's discussion of torture and a violence related to it, also someone flies through a rear windshield but its not a car accident, if thats something that triggers you. If you still dont want to read it, stop when Neil yells GO HOME.

To say that they were, collectively, really out of their depths would be a fucking understatement. 

Neil spent a long time in the passenger seat thinking over all the things he’d seen in the vision and being, overall, out of his fucking depth. He’d been a little out of it at first, which was understandable. He’d been shocked halfway to death. It was a miracle Neil had been able to identify Mammon _at all_. 

And that was the name of the man on the desert—well. What was _inside_ the man. The man itself was probably a weaker vessel, that could only carry Mammon up to a certain point. 

Neil also saw a spear, _The _Spear. Only one of its kind, because only one spear was theorized to have pierced the son of God. It was called the Spear of Destiny. 

And it had been in Mammon’s hands. 

Andrew, feeling Mammon closing in on him, had chosen to sacrifice himself. Still, Mammon _knew_ about Aaron. 

Why had Andrew told Neil to open Aaron’s eyes? Arguably, that would put Aaron in harm’s way. Yes, they probably wouldn’t have found the connection of Riko to Seth’s death if it wasn’t for Aaron, but still. It was a risk, and Andrew seldom jeopardized the safety of people he protected without a good reason. 

It was frustrating knowing he’d never know _why_. 

What mattered was that Neil _had seen _Aaron in the final place of the battle—the terrible Easthaven. In the vision, Aaron had been soaking wet and lying down in white tiles. Neil knew Easthaven had a pool, but— 

Neil growled, getting even more angry and how many possibilities there was for each point. The parts that he was _absolutely _certain were: the Son of the Devil was trying to crossover to rule the Earth, he needed a powerful psychic, he had the Spear of Destiny and the final showdown would happen in Easthaven. 

As soon as he told not only Renee but the others gathered around his still exhausted body, there was a telling since and then Renee said that she was going to start researching the Bible right away. Kevin cursed. Roland started to collect weapons and stuff to be melted into ammunition, because now he actually believed that the balance had been broken and it was Mammon trying to come over. 

“That little shit has been trying to climb out of his hole for centuries,” Roland said, crossing his arms as Neil drank what felt like his body weight in water. Apparently, to Neil, being electrocuted made him thirsty. “Can you send Boyd to help me? We're going to need proper ammunition.” 

Neil had simply nodded at him, and Roland nodded back, saying that he would try to see if anyone would tell him what was going on, but he didn’t sound like he had a lot of hope. 

Well… At least they now had Roland firmly on their side. When Neil told Renee who to search for in the Bible of Hell, Roland's eyes had widened and he was immediately aboard their Stop The Apocalypse train. 

Aaron didn’t have a clue what was going on, but Nicky recognized the name… sort of. Not from the Bible, not as belonging to a _demon_, not the sonof _anything_. 

“That’s a fucking character from a book,” Nicky muttered to himself while he drove them back. It sparked Kevin’s interest and they started to discuss it, because of _course_ Kevin would. 

“Are you talking about _Paradise Lost_? Because, technically, you’re right, but also Mammon is mentioned on the Bible because it is the Hebrew word for ‘money’ and—” that was about as much as Neil tortured himself by paying attention. It wasn’t like Neil could offer his two cents, since he knew the bare minimum about Bible canon and that was how he liked to keep it. 

Neil mostly ignored them as he tried to make his body move around a little less like an overcooked noodle. They quickly realized though that there was nothing to be done there, and Aaron and Kevin had helped Neil reach the car. 

Unfortunately, Nicky was driving. Kevin was giving directions as they drove, so Neil could just not pay attention to anything. The drive back was significantly shorter than the drive towards Eden’s. Could’ve been because Neil wasn’t driving, but also because of Nicky’s questionable driving abilities. 

Neil wouldn’t say Nicky raced back to Neil’s apartment, but Nicky’s driving style reminded Neil painfully of Andrew—especially since he was able to make Kevin clutch the seat under him, knuckles very much pronounced. 

Nicky parked in front of Neil’s building—haphazardly because who the fuck had enough time to park properly when the end of the world was nearing—, right behind Allison's car and they ran upstairs. 

Neil's apartment door was the only thing containing the outside world from the chaos within. Allison was the only point that was still at all in the whirlwind that Neil’s friends were doing in his living room. They all had phones to their ears, talking in an overwhelming lull of voices that were so intermingled that Neil’s head started to spin immediately. Nicky didn’t seem excited about trying to pass through them, so he stayed by the door messing around with the car keys while Aaron dumped Neil on the couch, beside the statue of Allison. Aaron took a look at the others and then weaseled his way to the kitchen. 

When there was a moment of silence, they looked at him and it was obvious that they were looking for reassurance. Maybe they wanted Neil to say that Roland had actually backtracked, and that it _wasn’t _Mammon breaking the balance and bringing the end of humanity, but Neil just… wouldn’t lie to them. He explained that Roland was currently trying to find more information, but that he did think it was actually Mammon. 

Neil’s words were met with overall panic. Allison broke her stoicism by starting to cry again—not the devastated sobs from before, but a constant stream down her cheeks. Neil thought it must have been mostly because their situation was, to put it mildly, shitty. 

It wasn’t just trying to find out what had happened around Andrew’s death anymore. If Mammon was really trying to come through, they were fucked because of the _implications_. 

“It _is _the Apocalypse then, huh?” Matt said and visibly swallowed on nothing. Nobody said anything to him and then they got back to their respective phones because… well. 

Matt wasn’t wrong. It _was _the Apocalypse. 

Nicky kept trying to ask question so he could at least try to understand it, but it was hard to give him any answers when they themselves didn’t know exactly what the fuck was going on as well. 

Well, it wasn’t exactly hard to understand the concept of an Apocalypse happening. They all dealt with a lot of shit, and everybody who was something in the supernatural world knew that each culture had its own idea about how everything would end—but most importantly, that there were people already destined to fight in it. It was important to at _least _try to know as many as you could because it could affect your future. Not only you needed to know the players in each one, but also the already appointed heroes—or what brand of Judgement Day they’d have to face, or whatever else the narrative told them. 

Rarely you found an Apocalypse situation trying to establish itself into reality without _anyone_ legitimately trying to stop it, which was technically what was happening right now. 

They all knew that the balance was supposed to be the main decider in this particular situation—after all, they had demons where they weren’t supposed to be, deaths that shouldn’t have occurred and _the son of the Devil coming through_. It had all the signals of a Catholic Apocalypse waiting to happen and the balance was supposed to deal with it, because it wasn’t technically Judgement Day yet. 

What they should’ve been seeing was Heaven coming down and doing something, since it was clearly _one _side of the balance who was acting out but… nothing happened. Neither Hell nor Heaven were doing shit about the fact that the literal son of the Devil was trying to climb into a body strong enough for him to drive it around like a fucking pony. 

To be quite honest, Neil was starting to think that neither Hell nor Heaven seemed to be aware that _anything_ was actually happening. 

It was weird, especially when considering what the Bible of Hell claimed was required in order for Mammon to rule Earth: He needed to have a little push from Heaven. 

It was _insanity _but when you stopped to look at everything that just wasn’t right then it became a little less improbable. 

Neil knew that Satan wasn’t God. He wasn’t the almighty and would never have his handy powers, such as being omnipresent and omniscient. Mammon could feasibly climb out of Hell and his father would be none the wiser. 

However the fact that Heaven was keeping a close eye on humanity at all was telling. 

From where Neil was sitting, he could see Renee and Kevin pouring over the Bible of Hell, pointing to the Latin text without touching it, making annotations and talking things over. Neil wanted to go there, but he was also too fucking tired to even keep himself ramrod while sitting, which was what how he usually sat. Neil slumped and let the noise wash over him, looking briefly at the window to see that dawn was almost breaking outside and he hadn’t slept yet. 

Even if he went to his bedroom to take what could potentially be his last nap forever, Neil knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep. Nothing made sense. His brain kept coming back to Heaven. 

Why wasn’t anyone stepping in? 

A weight dropped onto Neil’s shoulder and he looked to see Allison’s blonde, wavy-haired head resting heavily on him. She sighed deeply and then sniffled a couple of times, but Neil didn’t think she was crying anymore. He moved his arm and she let him pull her into a tighter one-armed hug. Aaron appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a jug of water and one single cup in his hand, looked at them and then turned back around. A few seconds later he reappeared with two cups held precariously in one hand. 

“What happens now?” Aaron asked when he reached them, filling their cups almost to the rim with water. 

“Well,” Neil said and took a sip of his water. They already knew which Apocalypse was threatening to happen. Even though it didn’t have a Savior, a Hero ready to fulfill its role, the break of the balance should’ve been controlled by the other side. It wasn’t. There was no one _outside_ the balance to try to interfere in it—it was only Heaven and Hell, betting on humanity. Humanity wasn’t supposed to be an _active _part on the balance, but since neither of them would make a move... It was going to end up being their responsibility to save themselves. Which, obviously, _sucked ass._ “Now we research and wait. And hope that, if we fail, at least the rest of humanity doesn’t die painfully.” 

Aaron sighed but sat onto the arm of Neil’s small couch and doubled himself to hide his face in his hands. Neil was about to tell him to go somewhere else with more _space_, when Nicky made a sound from where he was still standing near the door. Neil’s neck popped from how fast he turned to look at him, because he that wasn’t a good sound _at all_. Neil bit his lip when he noticed that he could see Nicky shaking like a leaf. 

“Nicky?” Neil asked and Nicky turned to him—too fast, too startled. His eyes were clearly showing how Nicky was absolutely, 100% not well. 

Bringing their immediate attention to Nicky made Aaron get up and approach his cousin hurriedly, pulling him by the arm towards the couch. “What’s wrong?” 

“I…” Nicky started and then frowned. His breath was too shallow and he seemed to need to keep a hand very close to where his heart was. His eyes were still too wide and Aaron’s strong grip seemed to be the only thing keeping him up. 

Neil was an exorcist. He had seen _a lot_ of panic attacks starting to happen, and Nicky seemed to be going that way as well. 

“Do you have anyone you can call to calm you down?” Neil asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “I think you might be having a panic attack.” 

“My… my boyfriend,” Nicky said and fumbled to get his phone out of his front pocket. He tapped his screen to wake it up but then he stopped, slowly raising his head to look at Neil. “The Apocalypse. This Son of the Devil or whatever. Is it really going to kill all of us?” 

Neil looked briefly at Aaron but he wouldn’t lie like Aaron clearly wanted him to. “Yes. I think it will happen and if we don’t stop it, it will kill everybody.” 

“My… my boyfriend is in Germany. He’s—he was supposed to come back in four days,” Nicky’s voice started to tremble. “We were going to—Oh God. Oh, no.” 

And then Nicky was unmade in tears, and Neil and Allison had no choice but to scooch over and give him space. Allison took one considering look at Neil and then climbed silently onto his lap. Neil repositioned her until her bony ass wasn’t digging into his thigh, and they both turned to watch Nicky (and Neil didn’t acknowledge Aaron’s gaze on them at all). 

Allison started to talk to Nicky in a low voice, trying to calm him down as Aaron took Nicky’s phone from his hand and started to mess around with it—probably in search of Nicky’s boyfriend number. 

Neil’s way of being helpful was trying really hard not to pay attention to Allison’s soothing murmurs because he just couldn’t take it. She was saying stuff about how they were going to try their hardest and that everything wasn’t lost yet, and Nicky’s boyfriend might survive and Neil had to reign his temper and tears. 

It was moments like this that made it clear to Neil that he wasn’t made of the same material as Allison was. He didn’t and never would have half of her strength—or maybe half of her emotional maturity. Neil couldn’t find in himself a place to be gentle to Nicky’s premature grief while he was still in the midst of his own, just like Allison. Nicky hadn’t lost his boyfriend yet, but they had. 

Neil chose to focus at their friends then—arguably, his _family_. All of them had lost something today. Some of them had lost something a few days ago, but what mattered was that they _still _had even more to lose in... a few days? Hours? The gears were turning, but they didn’t know when it would stop. 

However, they were all trying to do something. They were still researching, even if some of them kept shooting worried glances to what was happening in the couch. 

Neil looked at all of them and just _knew _he wouldn’t be able to sleep, even if he did go to his room. He had to find some way to _help_. There shouldn’t be any more loss. 

Nicky was still crying as he tried to hold his phone to his ear with shaky hands—talking in German, Neil noticed with a jolt. It had been some time since he’d heard the language, but it reminded him painfully of Andrew. 

Aaron noticed Neil watching Nicky and frowned at him. Neil couldn’t ask him what was wrong because Nicky had just asked Aaron in German to help him go somewhere more private. Aaron immediately stopped watching Neil to offer him a hand, and he helped Nicky to stabilize. 

“Where can I go?” Nicky asked Neil in an unsteady voice. 

“My bedroom,” Neil said and pointed—stupidly. His apartment was small and Nicky already knew where his bedroom was. Nobody commented on it though, and Aaron shuffled him away. 

“Buddy,” Matt said to Neil, finally putting his phone away. “We’re researching stuff, but it looks like there’s weird stuff happening all over. Wymack is dealing with magical shit in his food court, Abby is there helping, but…” 

“There’s not a lot of people to call, anyway,” Neil cut him, and sighed. “We don’t need an army, Matt. Mammon is probably too powerful, but in the end he is going to _possess _someone. We just need powerful Exorcists and there are two just in this room.” 

“He still needs a body,” Matt argued as he played nervously with his own fingers. Neil sat up and stared at Matt, incredulous. “A powerful psychic. Also, the blessing from above… How will he get that? I can’t imagine a future where Heaven would let Mammon come to Earth and destroy everything.” 

Neil frowned and just kept staring Matt down. Matt wasn’t wrong, it really sounded like something out of character, even for Heaven’s standards. However, Mammon was probably already getting _some _help. Too many things went unpunished. 

The psychic thing, however… 

Neil thought about the vision and what he had told the others. His memory was a bit fuzzy, but he did remember talking about having to go to Easthaven sooner or later, because that was where Neil had seen them. And he’d seen Andrew and Aaron. 

Neil thought that at least one of them would’ve made the same conclusion. His brain didn’t even _try _to tell them, because he thought it was obvious. Apparently, not so much. 

“I think I know who the psychic will be,” Neil said and Aaron appeared in the doorway again, although he it was clear by his face that he was unsettled by the way that Neil, Matt and Allison were looking at him. 

“Oh no,” Matt gasped, at the same time that Aaron said, “What happened?” 

“Well,” Allison said and her voice sounded raspy from crying. After a few seconds of silence, she started to laugh. “Twins, huh. We’re fucked!” 

Neil couldn’t exactly disagree with her. 

* * *

Jean’s call came in the middle of a heated argument between Aaron and Kevin. They were not screaming per se; the way that Aaron’s face kept getting redder and redder and also the way that Kevin was clenching his jaw made it clear that they were close. 

The only thing holding them back was that Nicky was sleeping in Neil’s bedroom and Allison had just fallen asleep on Neil’s couch, head resting in Renee’s lap in what must have been an incredibly painful position. Both Aaron and Kevin were trying really hard to be considerate to them but since the argument had gotten stuck in Kevin’s weird suggestions they started to get more and more frustrated with everything. 

“I will not waste fucking hours covering myself in tattoos just so that I won’t probably become the devil’s puppet! We don’t even know if we have hours!” Aaron hissed and Kevin made an inarticulate sound as a reply. “Use your fucking words, dumbass. While you try to form sentences, also spare some thoughts to come up with a better alternative.” 

“It’s the best option!” Kevin pointed out, almost spitting the words. “They would have to cut your skin off to be able to possess you!” 

“Probably!” Aaron’s voice raised a bit, but Renee’s gentle _Shhh!_ brought it back down. “You fucking said they probably wouldn’t be able to possess me if I had the tattoos!” 

They had been stuck in that loop for almost half an hour now. They were _almost _making Neil wish he had gone with Matt and Dan to help Roland melt down everything holy he had to make more ammunition. The only reason why Neil kept himself very much out of the middle of that whole argument was because he was honestly way too focused on his phone, for once in his goddamn life, waiting for it to ring. And it _would _fucking ring or Neil would find a way to fucking come back so he could destroy Jean’s hopes and dreams. 

Turns out that the most of the others really hadn’t made the same connections that Neil, Kevin and Renee. Aaron was well, had looked at Neil as he explained his vision once again and how he thought Aaron’s role was going to pan out. 

Aaron had looked murderous as he marched out of the apartment for a few minutes and Neil almost got up from the sofa to go after him when Aaron had marched back, with a clear apprehensive expression frozen on his face. After that, Matt and Dan had booked it out of there because shit had moved from _studying_ to fighting. 

They needed to “figure out” what the next step was, but Neil already had his own next step. And, depending on what Jean delivered to him, he would have his own following next step as well. 

Kevin opened his mouth to reply to Aaron but Neil’s phone started to vibrate aggressively on the table in front of them. They all stared at the device for a few seconds before Neil’s hand shot forward to pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Pen and paper ready, Josten?” Jean’s gruff voice sounded tired and unmotivated. Neil mimicked writing something down and Kevin got up, nearly running after his notebook and pen inside his bag of paraphernalia. It took maybe six seconds of silence, but it was enough time for someone, probably Jeremy, to start an angry whispering on the background of the call. Whatever was being said was enough to make Jean sigh. “Ok, ok. How are you, Josten?” 

Kevin was back, and he almost threw the notebook and pen at Neil. “Ready to write it down,” was what Neil answered. 

“See?” Jean said, a little far away from the phone. “I already knew that politeness was wasted on him. Josten, the address is a bit long, but I’m sure you’re not dumb enough to—” 

“This is really _not _the time,” Neil said and although he wanted to make it sound angry, it just came out an exhausted sigh. Almost sound like giving up, but Neil refused to classify describe himself with that. He was fucking exhausted and there was absolutely no way that he’d be able to just _banter _on the phone, but he was _not _fucking hopeless. 

Jean seemed to at least feel a little ashamed of his insensitivity, because he cleared his throat and just recited the address. Neil dutifully wrote it down and made Jean repeat it just to make sure he’d written the right thing. 

“It’s a place called _The Nest_, apparently.” Jean said, and Neil wrote that down as well, just in case they needed it. “It’s been under construction for some time but it opened up earlier this month. Looks like it might be a hotel.” 

Neil looked down on it. “A front for something?” 

“Maybe,” Jean hesitated. “Josten, there’s an order making the rounds between my side. Says that we have to be on guard. Something’s brewing and they’ll probably make us meet up… but it doesn’t say where or why—” 

“It’s going to be in Easthaven,” Neil told him. “Do you think Jeremy can get his side to…” 

“Gather around it and stop us from getting inside?” Jean scoffed. “I don’t think so. It’s been terribly quiet on his side of things.” 

“Does he have any ideas why?” 

“No,” Jean hesitated but then he sighed. “He just thinks it’s weird as fuck.” 

“Yeah,” Neil frowned. Then he realized that he hadn’t told Jean about the vision. He debated for only a second not revealing it, but Jean had never betrayed them. It would be stupid to stop trusting him _now_. 

As Neil told the story, he could feel the panic almost oozing towards him from the other side of the line, coupled with some colorful curses. When he was finished, Jean didn’t spoke a word. Quietly, Neil said, “Don’t forget that Mammon is going to need divine help. Keep an eye out.” 

“Well… That explains a lot of the weirdness happening.” Jean let his breath in one single exhale, loud and sudden. Neil could hear Jeremy muttering in the background, apparently not at Jean if his silence was any indication. Jeremy could be talking on a phone but whatever it was, Neil didn’t have a lot of hope for it. Not because he doubted Jeremy, but because Neil hadn’t seen any angelical half-breeds in his glimpse of their future. “We will keep an eye out, though,” Jean said, interrupting Neil’s daydream. “If something else happens…” 

“We’ll call you,” Neil said, knowing full-on that that was a fucking lie. They probably wouldn’t have time to call _anyone_. Jean snorted on the other side of the line, but didn’t call Neil out on his bullshit. They didn’t say goodbye when they hung up. 

The silence around Neil went almost unnoticed by him. He knew the others were waiting to be told what was happening, but Neil just couldn’t help staring down at the address. This was his following next step, after all. 

They needed to decide who was going to confront Riko about Seth—without Allison there, because she would be too much of a risk. But they also needed to try and figure out how the fuck they were going to completely _cover _Aaron in protection, from head to toe. 

Spells were too easy to break, so that option was readily thrown out. 

Also, Kevin was right. Although tattooing _would_ be a lot more secure than a spell, it wasn’t foolproof. It didn’t even need to be like Kevin described, of Aaron’s skin being cut off. One cut in the wrong place, one scab that moved even a bit of the ink out of Aaron’s skin and he’d be a goner, almost completely unprotected again. The only reason why he wouldn’t be 100% unprotected was because they were _there_. 

However… when put in scales how powerful a group of humans could be against the son of the Devil, some mysterious divine help and a horde of demonic half-breeds… Neil felt helpless. There was absolutely nothing he could do that would guarantee Aaron’s full protection. 

_Open A’s eyes_, Andrew had written in his wristband. _Take care of my family_. 

_How??_ Neil wanted to ask him, but couldn’t. That only made him scared that he was going to fail—because he _was_. He knew he would ultimately fail, because Aaron had been alone in his vision. He would need to find something strong enough to help Aaron _escape with life_ when he was captured, but Neil’s brain was swimming on emptiness. 

It was fucking impossible. What in the name of _Hell _could Neil do? 

“So?” Aaron prompted, breaking the silence as if his voice was a knife. Neil looked up, startled, to see Aaron crossing his arms. “Where’s this motherfucker?” 

“In a place called The Nest,” Neil answered and watched as none of their expressions lit up in recognition at all. “But… we need to sort out our priorities.” 

Aaron frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Not all of us can go,” Neil rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. “Allison can’t go because she’s grieving and needs to sleep. Also, I don’t think she’d be up for some torture, no matter how much she hates Riko right now. Kevin is a good Exorcist and great in a fight, but his true strength is that he’s the best of us at research and also the one with the widest network of people to find information for us, now that Allison is not… at her 100%. Renee is a great seer and fighter, but I think it’s best if she helps with research instead of torture. Matt and Dan are—” 

“Wait a second, torture?” Aaron interrupted. He looked at the others and then turned to Neil, incredulous. “Are we just going to gloss over that being mentioned _twice_?” 

“What the fuck did you think we were gonna do to get answers out of Riko, Aaron? Ask nicely?” Neil snarked and was quickly shushed by Renee. He lowered his voice accordingly. “You know the guy’s a fucking _asshole_. You didn’t talk about your vision, but—” 

“No, I _do _know that he’s a fucking scum. I felt,” Aaron shivered, closed his eyes and frowned as he clearly tried to shake himself of his memory, “Too much wrongness in him for it to be normal but… torture?” Aaron squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Aaron,” Renee whispered. “It’s the end of the world. Drastic measures are needed.” 

“You don’t need to be _part of it, _Goody Two-Shoes. And if it helps, he tortured your brother once,” Neil said and then grimaced. “Well, kinda. He mentally tortured Andrew by physically torturing me, but we’re not here to discuss semantics.” 

Aaron’s gaze was iron. “Did my brother…” 

“Kill him? No,” Neil looked at Aaron and smiled. “I helped someone who really didn’t approve of Riko’s… actions to get rid of him. Not a half-breed, but an Archan—” Neil stopped breathing when he took in his own words. 

Kevin’s head shot up and he looked at Neil like he’d gotten to the same conclusion. “He doesn’t live in the same place anymore. I’ve checked.” 

“You didn’t _check_, you paranoid fuck, you _obsessed_,” Neil was almost vibrating out of his seat. “You know where he moved to, don’t you?” 

“I do, but Neil…” Kevin looked away. “We have nothing to bargain. We had Riko before, but now…” 

“We’ll think of something. But we _have_ to go. Where is he now?” 

Kevin got up and went after his address book, because he was disgustingly primitive like that. While he tried to find the right page, Neil busied himself with thinking of what could be used as a bargain to get at _least_ a clue on what was going on. Maybe try to convince the Archangel that he should ring the Apocalypse bells up there in Heaven. 

Would the Bible of Hell do it? Or would they need to raid Seth’s stash, even if that would probably break Allison’s heart in a million pieces? Maybe just mentioning that the Spear of Destiny had been taken would be enough. 

Neil’s head was overworking with possibilities, but it came to a screeching halt when Kevin finally found his address book and read the address he’d found out loud. 

“What?” Neil asked, and listened attentively as Kevin repeated it. Unfortunately, Neil hadn’t heard it wrong. It really was the same _fucking _place. “Well. _Shit._” 

Maybe it was the emphasis that Neil put in the sibilant sound that made Allison grunt behind him and Neil knew he’d awaken her. Renee was trying to convince her to get back to sleep, but Kevin’s “What? What’s wrong _now_?” was probably too loud for Allison to ignore. 

Neil didn’t answer Kevin, just slid his notebook on the table towards him. Kevin stopped it with both hands and looked down at the page where Neil had written the address. 

“It’s the same place,” Kevin said, in a small voice. Then, with feeling, he whispered, “_Fuck_.” 

Neil wanted to smile inappropriately but his muscles didn’t answer him. He was locked in place and also very much out of it. This sick fuck of a joke was already too much for him to even pretend to find anything in it, and his muscles had more than clearly given up on him. 

“Is that the divine help Mammon will get?” Aaron asked and both Kevin and Neil looked at him with fear. Neil hadn’t thought about it that way, but now that he was considering it? 

“If it is,” Neil said and he _hated_ how hopeless his voice sounded, but there was absolutely _nothing else to feel_. “If it really is, we’re fucked.” 

* * *

They now had a _new_ dilemma. It was a given that they were going to have to interrogate Riko (and maybe try to find a way to persuade the Archangel to explain what the _fuck _was going on) but if the Archangel was helping in any way, Aaron couldn’t go anywhere fucking near them. 

If Aaron had training, or any kind of mentor available to help him with his abilities, they could at least _try _to see something—who they could ask for help, what the past, present and future could piece for them. But they had literally no one. Aaron’s powers wouldn’t be useful to them unless he accidentally tapped into them again. Renee was currently trying to explain it to him how it worked, but they weren’t having any luck, _clearly. _Their powers didn’t really work in the same way, so it was understandable. 

Still. They were really, truly fucked. 

Neil took a moment to miss Andrew, like a knife stuck to his metaphorical heart—cold and painful, but the only thing keeping him from bleeding to death. At the same time, he felt stupid for having to rely so much on someone’s power in a situation like this one. Mostly because he now loathed when he felt _dependent_ on people. 

Andrew would have been really useful there, though. Mostly, because Neil missed him, but now was _not the time_ to think about that. 

They started to discuss who would come with Neil. It was nice that they didn’t even try to argue that Neil shouldn’t go; they all knew there was _no way _Neil wouldn’t be going to witness but most likely help with questioning/torturing Riko. After all, Neil had never gotten back at Riko for what he did emotionally to Andrew. Riko had been lucky that he’d never done anything physical towards him, because Neil would’ve made _sure_ Riko felt something at least a hundred times worse. 

Neil didn’t really care about what Riko had done to him, especially because he thought that Riko had been in the hand of someone who _was_ going to punish him as he deserved to be punished. The Archangel had dealt with Neil mostly as a voice through his feverish dreams, but Kevin especially had interacted with him in person. They were able to find where Riko had hidden not only Neil and Jean, but a bunch of other supernatural creatures that were as “pure” as Neil himself and that Riko had tried to “taint”. 

Neil had been there because someone hired him to find someone—the details had been fuzzy because it was a _trap_. Riko just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Neil wasn’t a sinner yet (It jolted through him that he _still _wasn’t a sinner. Neil thought revenge was going to be a much more unforgiving thing, but up until now it had been totally fine. It was weird, to say the least). 

Anyway, a half-breed trapping people and torturing them was an _obvious_ break of the balance, because torturing wasn’t fucking _influencing_, but direct actions towards humans. Since it was one agent of Hell going out of line, it was Heaven’s responsibility to punish Riko. 

To Neil, handing Riko over to the Archangel had been the end of Riko. After all, Riko _did_ disappear—from his normal circuit, the people he was supposed to oversee, including his lackeys, who were left to fend for themselves and finally leave a lot of different folks to live in peace. 

But if the Archangel _hadn’t _really punished Riko? If he had put Riko somewhere aside, and now… 

Well, there was the possibility Riko had escaped whatever place the Archangel had put him, and the first thing he did was go after the weakest link in Neil’s friendship group—Seth, unfortunately. 

However, Neil couldn’t keep Aaron’s suggestion out of his mind. If the Archangel was the actual divine blessing that Mammon was going to get to become the new ruler of the planet, then it made _sense_ why Heaven wasn’t acting. An Archangel would have enough power to cloud whatever was happening down here to _most _people, but… The guy who was supposed to be omnipresent and omniscient wouldn’t be fooled, would he? 

Neil sighed. If those powers were false advertisement, that it meant that the whole of humanity was utterly doomed. Probably. 

But Neil refused to give up without at least _trying_. 

At least they had decided that they _were _going to confront Riko—and, if Kevin’s information was correct, the Archangel as well. 

There was nobody else to go that would be helpful in that situation, though. Dan and Matt were still helping Roland with their ammunition (made with blessed gold and bullets baptized in holy water), Jean and Jeremy couldn’t interfere (and Neil doubted Jean would even _want _to), Kevin and Renee were still doing research, trying to come up with a tight plan (Neil also doubted Kevin would want to go anywhere near Riko), Allison was... better at networking than torturing, Nicky and Aaron were a definitive no. That left absolutely nobody near and _ready_ to go. 

“You can’t go _alone_,” Allison insisted. 

“Why not? I’m not good at research and I’m not in direct danger. Also, I would _love _to get Riko to Hell—properly this time, since turns out that if you want something done well, you have to do it yourself.” 

Allison, but pretty much all of them, blinked at Neil for a few seconds. 

“Are you even listening to yourself?!” Allison’s shriek was louder than necessary, and brought Nicky from the bedroom, stumbling and with a puffy, red face. His eyes were almost completely gone in the midst of his swelling. “_This is not your personal revenge journey anymore, _Neil Josten, this is _the end of the world!_” 

“What has happened _now_,” Nicky asked wearily. 

“Josten wants to go after the bad guys alone,” Aaron answered in a monotone voice. 

“Oh, no,” Nicky said and hightailed to the kitchen. Neil really wished he could say he felt angry at how many people felt comfortable to just go through all of his stuff, but from the sounds he was making it looked like Nicky was going to make fresh coffee and well. Neil didn’t oppose to that at all. 

Allison snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Are you even paying attention to me?” 

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

“Fuck you, Josten. You don’t get to act like that when we only want to take care of you, you _fucking _midget.” 

“Wymack…” Kevin started in a small voice. 

“Has to take care of his court,” Neil said in an impatient voice. “_You _said that he’s having some sort of trouble, didn’t you?” 

“Well, then your uncle…” 

“It’s not going to help,” Neil rubbed his eye. “You _know _him.” 

Kevin’s jaw ticked but before he could answer, Allison waved her hand between them. 

“Hello, are you both brain-damaged? Did you stop to think that maybe the fact that all of our friends having some sort of personal crisis is suspicious? Almost like they want to make sure we’re unstable enough to not be as much of a help?” 

Well. 

Shit. 

“Maybe it is that, Allison,” Neil sighed and rubbed his eye again. “But Riko was there when Seth was killed. And now he’s apparently in the same exact place as the guy we thought was interested in _killing_ him or punishing him, but who apparently didn’t do either of those! Maybe! Because we also don’t even _know _what happened to Riko through all of these years. Don’t you want to fucking _know_? Not only what’s happening right now, but also _why _a fucking _Archangel—_” 

“We already know where the last event is going to be!” Allison almost yelled and Neil was glad that it was already 7:30 in the fucking morning. It might be the end of the world, but the rest of his building probably didn’t know that. Most of his neighbors would be awake already, or at least Neil _thought _so, but Neil didn’t want to get a noise complaint on what was probably going to be his last day on Earth. Allison didn’t seem to care about the time. To her, it was probably Scream o’clock. Neil winced. “We should just head to Easthaven _before_ it happens! So that we can _occupy_ the building—” 

“_Occupy_ the building? Are you insane? ‘Cause if you are, we can definitely send you to Easthaven ahead of us. You’ll fit right in with all the patients who are already there. Do you have a good excuse that would make them evacuate the building so we could occupy it, as you want to do?” 

“Well, we could _at least _camp outside!” 

“Allison.” Neil’s voice was calm, but it wasn’t deceiving. It hadn’t even been Neil’s intention to use his Exorcist voice on her. Still, Allison flinched automatically and Neil softened his voice. He didn’t want to speak to her as if she was the enemy, because _she wasn’t _and Neil _knew that_. “You know the rules. Just because you know the future, doesn’t mean you can try to trick it. Going there _blindly_ just so he could be there first doesn’t help us. We need to understand what the fuck is going on with Riko and the Archangel.” 

“Which Archangel is it?” Both Allison and Neil turned to glare at Nicky’s contribution, and Nicky raised his hands. “Hey, I was raised Christian. I might know something useful?” 

“Ichirou,”Neil answered, and Nicky blinked. “Yeah, I know. That’s because not a lot of Archangels _give their real name to humans_, Nicky.” 

“Oh,” Nicky frowned. “Can you guess?” 

“Probably Michael or Gabriel,” Kevin said. “The other main two don’t care about humans all that much.” 

“Main two?” Nicky repeated. “Aren’t there only… seven?” 

“Seven _mentioned in the Bible_,” Kevin corrected, putting his nose up in the air. “We really don’t have the most updated version of the story, you know. And some of them just don’t deal with humans all that much. Four of them do, though.” 

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Allison said with a cold voice. 

“Yeah,” Neil said, clearly mocking here. “Because sitting here discussing things is the best way to occupy our last probable hours on Earth.” 

“Neil…” 

“No, Allison,” Neil said and got up. “I’m tired of discussing this. The sun has already risen and _I’m going to the Nest. _Alone.” 

“Why can’t we all go?” Nicky asked, clearly confused. Both Neil and Allison froze and turned to look at him. Nicky seemed nervous, but he didn’t lose his nerve. “Well, if we’re all there, we can get help to Neil quicker, if he needs it. Renee and Kevin seem to be using mostly the Internet to find their info, and they’ve been doing that on their phone. If we’re all there, then no one can attack Aaron. And I really think that we should call Roland and ask him to let Dan and Matt come with us? And then we’ll take them right back to help him?” 

It was a terrible plan. 

But as Neil looked at the faces around, they all seemed to come to same conclusion: at least it was _a _plan, and one a little better than the previous suggestions. 

They’d have five strong fighters—Neil, Kevin, Renee, Matt and Dan—, Aaron at least knew how to shoot a gun since he was a detective, and only two technical deadweights—because yes, Allison was an incredible businesswoman who also knew how to defend herself in a fight, but it wasn’t part of her job to fight supernatural creatures. 

This could… work. Even if Neil went alone. 

But if Matt was there, then Matt would go with him. 

Yeah… it could work. 

Neil thanked Nicky as they started to walk all over Neil’s apartment, searching for appropriate weapons. Nicky smiled shakely from his spot on the sofa. 

“I want us to survive,” Nicky said and the look upwards as his eyes filled with water again. “I really want us to survive.” 

“Yeah…” Neil thought about Andrew. About his many messages. If Neil couldn’t save Andrew, he at least could save his family. “Me too.” 

* * *

The Nest was indeed a hotel, but there were no clerks on the reception desk. At least, none visible from the other side of the street were Neil had parked Andrew’s car. They’d confirm it in a few seconds, though. 

Neil yawned and tried to repress it halfway through. He hadn’t slept yet, but this wasn’t the longest stretch of time he’d gone without sleep. Kevin looked at him from the passenger seat, but didn’t say anything. Neither did Nicky, Aaron and _Katelyn, _for some reason—the reason being she’d seen all of them leaving the building and tried to make them stop to explain what was happening. 

Neil had snapped, “Shut up, we don’t have time. If you want to know what we’re doing and maybe die along the way, why don’t you come with us?” 

And she _did_. 

Aaron explained what was happening and he seemed mystified by how _chill _Katelyn was as she checked out the four different amulets they had found for Aaron to put around his neck. 

“Well, it’s the End of the World,” Katelyn said when Nicky asked why she didn’t look _worried_. “We have to _try _something! It’s our duty as people on this Earth to… I don’t know. Do _something, _like—” 

“Die or die fighting,” Neil interrupted her and the silence on his backseat was almost palpable. 

“It’s death either way,” Kevin replied and Neil turned to give him a disgusted look. 

“You’re not even going inside, so stop whining.” 

Renee rapped on Neil’s window right then, and she stepped aside so he could open his door. They had decided that they would all stay inside the cars—engines’ running, in case they needed to make a quick escape. Neil doubted that something heavy would be thrown on top of Andrew’s car to kill them all, so they’d _probably _be safe inside. 

Hopefully. 

Matt was already waiting for Neil, and they walked towards the hotel without a single word exchanged. 

The hotel lobby was indeed as empty as it had looked from the outside. Even more creepy than the lack of people was the lack of _anything _that out of place. There wasn’t a layer of dust anywhere, there wasn’t one single paper out of alignment. Everything was too pristine. They searched everywhere they could on the first floor, but didn’t find a single sign of life. Neil and Matt exchanged a look, adjusted their grips on their guns—borrowed from Roland to be tested, just in case something Matt, Roland and Dan had done with the ammunition had fucked up its original properties— and then they moved towards the elevator, searching for the stairs. 

When they had reached the second floor, still in silence, Neil raised his hand to make a gesture to where they should start looking, but a voice whispering “Josten” in a tone that twas clearly teasing interrupted him. 

Neil couldn’t help but snarl silently, mostly visual without sound. Even in a whisper, he recognized Riko’s voice. 

They went forward, much more carefully now that they knew that at least part of their information was correct. They checked each room perfunctorily, just to avoid surprises, because they could _see _the only room that was actually occupied was the business room at the end of the corridor. It was the only one whose door was slightly ajar. 

Matt and Neil stopped when they reached the wall nearest to the open door. Matt look at Neil and nodded as he took a step back to put him behind Neil. Taking a deep breath and a moment to steady the gun on his hip, Neil exhaled, pointed his gun to the wall and fired. 

Holy fire burned a new door through the wall, a gust of uncomfortably warm wind making Neil’s hair flutter as everything in the path of the gun briefly lit up and then put itself out—with the exception of Riko, who was currently rolling around in the ground, cursing as he tried to deal with his flammable suit. Neil gave a quick check to the room with his eyes, but found it empty. So he stepped forward. 

And instantly froze when Matt couldn’t follow him. 

_Fuck,_ Neil thought. _A trap._

“Don’t let anyone inside,” Neil told Matt, who nodded and moved so he could keep an eye on the corridor and on what was happening inside the business room. Riko had finally put the fire out, but he didn’t bother to get up. Just stayed there, panting. 

Not wanting to lose advantage, Neil took a step forward and kicked Riko’s head with all the strength he could. It wouldn’t snap Riko’s neck, but at least it disoriented him. 

Also, it felt good. 

Neil put a crucifix in one of Riko’s hand and kneeled on it so Riko couldn’t throw it away. Then he pulled a flask of holy water and put it at almost a 90 degree angle above Riko’s face. Even though Riko was hissing because of the crucifix, he stopped when he saw the flask—and also the gun that Neil was pointing to the chest under him. 

“Hello, Riko,” Neil said. 

“Fire, Nathaniel? Really?” Neil’s jaw hurt when he gritted his teeth at the name and he shook the flask until droplets of water fell on Riko’s face. Riko tried to dodge them, but hissed when he couldn’t. He still had enough breath to say, “I was _born_ in the fire.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Neil growled and got closer to Riko’s face. “You were supposed to be dead or severely punished for your little stunt against the balance. What happened, huh?” 

“I have worth,” Riko said, smiling despite the pain he was trying to hide. “I’m not like you, just a worthless, good for nothing, weak _human_. I have powers beyond your imagin—” and Riko was too busy choking on droplets of holy water that Neil had let trickle down inside his mouth to keep saying his monologue. 

“I have more flasks, Riko,” Neil informed him in a bored voice. “Tell me at _least_ one thing, and don’t make it a long story: why did you kill Seth?” 

“We needed to tessst,” Riko hissed. “It alssso wasssn’t time for any of you to know anything.” 

“We know a _lot _now,” Neil informed him, jabbing the gun on Riko’s chest. “The son of the Devil. What he needs to cross over. Where the showdown is going to be. What is this test you talk about, though?” 

“Yesss, you know a lot,” Riko was starting to smile again and Neil just _knew_ he was going to ignore Neil’s question about the test. “But did you know that you brought the lassst piece to usss?” 

Neil’s blood ran cold and he momentarily forgot about whatever test it was. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh, nothing really.” 

Neil saw red, especially since that little shit’s grin just kept getting bigger and bigger. Neil wasn’t here to play games, though. 

Angrily, he got up and Riko was startled for a few seconds, before he shook the crucifix from his hand—without trying to get up, though. Riko wasn’t _that_ stupid. 

“Well, since you won’t fucking talk, I guess it’s time to do my job, huh?” 

“What, exorcissse me?” Riko showed his teeth to Neil. “I’m not _possssessssing _thisss body. It belongsss to me. Kill me or go away.” 

“I’m not going to exorcise you,” Neil said and then took something small from his back pocket. A small, black book. Riko looked at it incomprehensibly, until he read _The Bible_ in gold letters. Neil smiled. “I will _forgive_ you.” 

“You aren’t a priessst,” Riko protested but he looked nervous. 

“But you are someone who has done me harm, and I’m a believer. You’ll finally go to Heaven, Riko,” Neil opened the page and gave one last smile at Riko. “It _will_ work and you’ll have a great time.” 

And then Neil started to pray in Latin. The old dead language wasn’t strictly necessary, but Neil was taking a wild guess that Riko wasn’t actually old enough to have learned Latin at all. Neil was reading Matthew 6 in its entirety, mostly because it was the chapter that had the verses that actually talked about forgiveness: “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” 

It wouldn’t make a lick of difference in this situation but it was fun to look at Riko’s face and see the uneasiness there. 

It was also good to know that Neil wasn’t a sinner but _Riko_ was. It was even better because Riko wasn’t human. So even if Neil killed him, it wouldn’t taint his soul. Acting his revenge out was being pretty sinless up until now—if you excluded the Seven Deadly Sins, of course. Neil had felt a bit enraged as of late. 

Going back to paying attention to his prayer, Neil raised his voice dramatically as he pointed his open hand up towards the sky. Riko’s nervousness was almost something physical in the room, and he was finally starting to show some fear, especially because Neil had changed the cadence of the words, and it felt like he was almost finished. He wasn’t, not really, but he could only keep this up for so long. It was time for the final word. 

“Ame—” 

“I’LL TALK!” Riko interrupted Neil, who looked down at him. “I’ll talk, jussst… Sssssstop praying.” 

“Then talk,” Neil said, not moving. 

“Mammon needsss the body of a—” 

“Skip ahead, we already know that part.” 

“He’ll alssso need the blesssssing of the onesss above to—” 

“We have the fucking Bible of Hell! We know! If you aren’t going to tell me anything new—” 

“This was a trap!” Riko said, panicked. “We just wanted to know if the brother would be able to bring you here.” 

Neil halted and stared down. “How?” 

“Only a powerful psssychic would find evidence of me in that room.” 

“He’s protected outside,” Neil said and tried to believe that his friends would be enough protection. Riko’s pained smirk didn’t let him, though, even if he stopped smirking when Neil shook the Bible at him. 

“Your friends’ powers aren’t strong enough against his.” 

“Whose?” 

Riko smiled, serenely. “I won’t betray the one who saved me for your benefit. You can’t do anything against me.” 

Neil knew just from that smile that it was true. Riko wouldn’t give up any more information about whom had helped him, even if he was sent to Heaven for it. Neil gritted his teeth—he wanted to ask about The Archangel. He wanted too many things, but if what Riko said was true, they didn’t have any time. Neil and Matt would be much more valuable _outside_ right the fuck _now._

“I can do one thing,” Neil said, throwing his Bible onto the table and pointing the gun towards Riko, who looked at Neil like he was puzzled by him. Like he didn’t believe Neil would actually pull the trigger. He was about to experience some rude awakening. Neil grinned. “Kill you. And by the way: you need to repent and ask for forgiveness to be forgiven and get your Heaven ticket, you moron.” 

Then Neil pulled the trigger and watched as the fire licked away at Riko’s body. Neil however didn’t even stay to see if Riko would finally die. He just took his Bible from the table again and ran past Matt, who was still waiting but followed Neil’s cues. 

“What happened inside?” Matt asked, and kept up with Neil’s running pace easily. 

“Riko said this was a trap,” Neil said and they didn’t even try to go with the elevator. It wasn’t like it would be particularly faster, and it might _also _be a trap. Neil was skipping steps and hoping he wouldn’t trip but also if he did… he would probably reach first floor faster, so… “They wanted to draw Aaron out. Said if he was as powerful as Andrew, he’d be able to find evidence of Riko in Seth’s death.” 

“The others are protecting him,” Matt said but even his voice was a bit wobbly. 

“Doesn’t hurt to have us there.” 

They stopped talking because they could finally see outside. Their entire group was still inside each car, and the engines roared to life when Matt and Neil ran towards the car that had only Dan and Allison. 

“GO HOME,” Neil yelled at Renee before diving inside the other car, hoping, _praying_ that if they got away from there fast enough, it would be _fine_. Neil looked at the seat belt and didn’t put it on. There was no time. 

“We’re on a call with Renee,” Dan informed them as Allison started to drive like a lunatic behind Renee, who was a faster driver but much more controlled. 

“It was a trap,” Neil said loudly, and heard someone curse through the speakerphone. “They wanted to test if Aaron was powerful enough to point us in Riko’s direction.” 

“They who?” Kevin asked. 

“Riko wouldn’t say.” 

“_Fantastic_!” Aaron yelled and then practically everybody made a muffled _oof _as they made a turn too fast. 

“Well, we at least now we know that they really are after you!” Neil argued angrily, and he looked to the seat belt with longing when they made another turn too fast and Matt’s head hit Neil’s stomach full-on. 

“How are they going to come after us?” Renee inquired, in a voice much calmer than Neil felt was the normal human reaction. 

“I didn’t exactly wanted to stop and ask!” 

Neil was expecting another exasperated expletive from Aaron, but there was only silence as they kept driving. He foolishly let himself think they could get away, and then he heard Katelyn ask in a quiet voice, “Aaron?” 

“I-I don’t feel so go—” 

And then there was screaming, but what made Neil’s heart clench was look at the car in front of them—Andrew’s car, the _beloved_ Maserati—and watch Aaron _fly through the rear windshield_. Not because of an accident but because he was clearly being _pulled._

“Fuck!” Neil yelled and punched the backseat. “He took the amulets off?!” 

“I think they all fell out of his neck in the last…” 

_Turn. _Neil was breaking his promise to Andrew of taking care of his family because of a fucking fast turn. 

“_Fuck!_” Neil yelled again in fury. 

“There was a honk behind them and Allison quickly moved to the curb, Renee mimicking her in front of them. The car who was behind them passed, but no one in both cars paid attention to them. Neil couldn’t stop staring at the giant _hole_ in the rear windshield in front of them. 

“Neil,” Renee said, in a soft voice. “I’m…” 

“Not at fault here,” Neil said, although he didn’t bother to mask his frustration. They had _almost done it_. 

The silence was an oppressive weight until Nicky’s sob made itself heard, sobbing “It was my idea!” which only made him cry harder. It was enough to wake all of them up. Neil wanted to punch something or someone, but they didn’t have time. 

“Head to Eden’s,” Neil said in a low voice, but Renee still heard him, because she immediately turned on her signal to get back on the road. Their drive to Eden’s was fast, but not as fast but got tired of the concept of time and closed his eyes. He knew he would get stuck in wishing that they could move faster so they wouldn’t lose anybody else, but he was sure that both Renee and Allison were also being overly careful because of the same thought. 

It wasn’t like they’d have a lot of time to fuck anything else up now, though. Neil knew that now that they had Aaron there, the Apocalypse would be coming, and _quick_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
Thank you for reading! This chapter was only a little late in comparison to the others lmao  
If you noticed, last Monday I did not posted the chapter like i promised. What happened was: on January 10th, I had an eye surgery. Every fucking where that i looked/every person i talked to said that i could pretty much do everything i was used to after hours of the surgery, but i still waited until the next day to write 3500 in a sitting (I know). And the next day, i wrote something like 3k again (I Know). When Monday came around and i sat down to edit Constantine, i noticed that my eye was hurting. Like, a lot. So I decided it would be better if i LET MY EYE REST AFTER ALL lmao  
so thats what happened, however!!!! it means im behind on my schedule. SO im going to update in a few days and then again on next monday. Now you get to decide: you want the update on the cusp of thursday and friday, or friday and saturday? vote now on your phones or anonymously in my tumblr or idk what y'all are more comfortable BUT NOT TELEPATHY, PLEASE lmao  
once more, thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
They make bullets and find weapons, they fight a bunch of half-breeds and Three New People appear to mess around/stop the Apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
a bit late again, but much smaller!  
WARNINGS: if you dont like to read about drowing, skip some of the parts on the pool. Also, theres a bit more of gun violence.

To say that the atmosphere at Eden’s Twilight was heavy and charged with tension would be true, but also only an understatement. They had plans to make, weapons to check to make sure were still functional, and more ammunition to make since clearly more people would be going to enter Easthaven. 

They tried to contact Wymack, Abby, and even Neil’s uncle, but all their calls went straight to voicemail. Not long after that, all of their phones also lost signal. It didn’t prompt more than a grimace and a knowing exchange of glances between all of them as they went back to work. 

Neil watched his friends working and he felt his stomach almost twisting itself, trying to imitate an ouroboros. It was really happening; the Apocalypse was clearly underways and it would start by further isolating people from those they could call for help. 

At least now Neil would have a valid excuse to disappoint Jean with—if they survived. 

Kevin and Renee were the only ones not doing anything physical. They were out of the way of the flurry of movement, busy writing a list of every angelic creature or Heaven-related _thing_ ever described in religious texts—Christian and some from religions older than that, just to make sure. Kevin and Renee’s Hebrew was not exactly A- material, and searching through books that you barely understood the language looked like a temper tantrum begging to happen (at least to Neil; he wouldn’t have lasted in that situation, but Kevin seemed to be enjoying it. On the other hand, Renee’s hair was looking more and more frizzy from how much she ran her hands through it), but they were doing it. They were even discussing possible methods of killing them or incapacitating them. 

To Neil, that last part was a fruitless endeavor. Well, the whole thing was a bit useless, but they didn’t need to know how to kill or incapacitate every single heavenly creature in the world. The Bible of Hell showed _an angel_. There weren’t that many stories telling how to kill an angel step-by-step because most of them focused on a warning to mortals that they cannot kill those creatures. 

Also, Neil doubted that _anyone_ would look more guilty than the Archangel had been looking recently. They just had to do the impossible, and find a way to kill an _archangel._

It was easy. 

It was good that they were researching at least. Neil wasn’t going there alone so he wasn’t responsible for knowing everything in this instance. Also, if he was wrong, at least they weren’t going to _die _because Kevin’s plans would work. 

Probably. 

Neil exhaled a frustrated breath which made Roland, who was removing the primer of the cartridges so they could put blessed _everything _in their bullets, turned to look at him. Roland wasn’t mortal, but even he looked worse for the wear. “What’s wrong?” 

“They’re trying to prepare for everything,” Neil gestured towards Kevin and Renee. “The Bible of Hell had two clear drawings of what Mammon would need to be brought over: both of them have an angel, with wings and without them. Preparing for everything won’t help us, it’s mostly just losing time on searching how to kill things _we can’t kill_. Humans weren’t made to kill angels of any kind. It’s… pointless.” 

“They don’t know what else to do, Josten,” Roland put a new gold primer in each cartridge he had in front of him. “And it’s not like it’s going to hurt your case to go in with more information.” 

“Do you know how to kill an Archangel?” Neil asked, pointedly. 

“No.” 

“Do you know how to kill anything remotely angelic that isn’t a half-breed?” 

Roland sighed. “No.” 

“There you go,” Neil rubbed his face and then went back to trying to find a usable gun in one of Roland’s boxes—Roland probably never threw anything away, if the boxes full of weapons was any indication. “We don’t really _have_ that kind of information for a reason. We have the instructions on how to exorcise Mammon because it would be _dangerous_ to leave him walking around Earth, but we don’t get tutorials on how to kill Heavenly creatures because they aren’t supposed to make choices like that.” 

“Well,” Roland grunted as he slammed the metal lever down, doing whatever that did. Neil had never made bullets before and he only _vaguely_ knew the name of each part of a bullet, but he wasn’t familiar with the name of the _machinery_ used in it. Roland was giving Neil a pointed look that was enough to make Neil stop thinking about ammunition and concentrate on their conversation. “Go talk to their manager, then.” 

“God?” Neil scoffed. “He wouldn’t listen to my prayers.” 

“Why not? You’re untainted, theoretically. Which, let me tell you, it’s unbelievable.” 

“He never listened before,” Neil said and he cursed himself internally when his voice shook enough that it made Roland raise his eyes to look at him. “Why would he start now?” 

“Sure, he won’t, if you really want to be that much of a downer,” Roland said and then dumped the new bullets together with the others. “However, it begs the question: if you think you won’t be heard by God, is there anyone else who would listen to you?” 

Neil stopped moving guns around and looked at Roland, uncomprehensively. 

“What do you mean?” 

“C’mon, Josten, don’t be dumb. You think Heaven won’t hear you; fine, then. What about Hell?” Neil frowned at Roland, who rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Neil. You are responsible for sending all the little stray half-breeds who are toeing outside the line back to Hell. You’re constantly foiling the plans of a lot of demons when they find someone to possess and not always in the nicest of ways. Don’t look at me like that, you have a fame for being nasty during exorcisms. Don’t even try to deny it. Lucifer probably knows you by name. Can’t you see it?” Roland gave a closer step to Neil. “If Heaven won’t listen to you, Hell definitely will.” 

It wasn’t a good plan, putting all his eggs in one flimsy excuse of a basket. However, Roland wasn’t simply a no-one, with no knowledge of how the supernatural world operated. He hung out with half-breeds all days of the week, providing them with one of the few safe places in the entire city—maybe the only place in a bigger radius, even. Yes, they saw enemies there, but Roland had _centuries_ of enforcing the rules and he was trustworthy. 

He was privy to information sources that none of the others could access. 

And Neil hated to say it, but he couldn’t think of a single way to call Heaven’s attention to him. He could plead that Andrew should’ve been forgiven for his act of selflessness and altruism, but he just knew that that wouldn’t be enough. 

Neil _just_ praying to Lucifer though? He wouldn’t even need to come up with an excuse. 

If Andrew was here, he would pop Neil on the back of the head, and complain about fucking martyrs. If it got whatever heavenly creature to be _destroyed_, Neil didn’t care that his last act on Earth would be of martyrdom, bartering his soul away on the chance that it would save—his friends, Andrew’s family. Neil’s family. 

Because no matter what the act looked like on the outside, the gift inside the package was Neil’s desire for revenge. And if he had to sacrifice himself to kill what dared to end Andrew’s existence, so be it. 

* * *

Neil wasn’t particularly unfamiliar with the path towards Easthaven, or even to its innards. That had been the place where he’d met Andrew for the first time, after all. 

They were teenagers, from different walks of the supernatural world. Andrew was scarily powerful, but volatile thanks to the many meds they forced down on him and the lack of proper training. Neil didn’t have a lot of power although he had come from a family who did dabbled in the Occult—too much, one might say—, but he was damn good at _acting _like someone who should be in a mental health institution—because, truthfully, his mother had just been brutally murdered in front of him and he wasn’t really _that _stable. He also needed a place to lie low for a little while. 

It was perfect. 

On Neil’s first day on the ward, Andrew had been dispassionately playing tennis against another patient. Neil criticized his form under his breath and Andrew “accidentally” let his racquet fly on an overly enthusiastic move. His maniac smile as he said, “Oops” made Neil feel _electrified_. Alive and real for the first time in a long while. Alive and real in a manner that his mother had never been able to inspire on him with all her treats and beatings. 

The ward’s nurses tried to punish Andrew for attacking another patient, but Neil defended that it was an accident. 

Andrew had never showed Neil any kind of verbal gratitude for that defense, but he didn’t complain when Neil sat with him at dinner that day. And lunch. And for the rest of his stay there. 

_How _could Neil not be _fascinated_ by him? 

Neil had a lot more mental stability after months of trying to latch onto somebody else to be his pillar and being denied. He wasn’t completely independent, but Andrew put him in the right path for it. Neil didn’t really trust any of the psychiatrists on the staff, but he’d listen to Andrew. The employees on the ward took notice of that and exploited it as often as Andrew actually went with what they said. 

That bliss lasted until Neil’s uncle found Neil and wanted to forcefully discharge ho, from the ward. Neil refused to go without Andrew as well. Stuart Hartford had looked at him like he was actually insane, but _complied._

They left Easthaven together. They lived together, until they didn’t. Being back there, to their actual beginning, but _alone _was torturous. It was bad especially since that was a place that Neil never thought he would have to visit again. Neil constantly tried to successfully erase those months after his mother’s death, but whenever he was forced to remember then, he always tried to keep his focus on _Andrew_ in his memories. 

The first time that Andrew spoke to him. The first time they saw something supernatural together and Andrew noticed that Neil could see it too. 

Their whole beginning could be tied to shitty situations in their life, and the couple of years they lived together with Stuart—until Andrew couldn’t stand how well his life had been going and left in the middle of the night. 

He came back, eventually, a year and a couple of months after but Neil couldn’t describe how often he’d come back to Easthaven, just to try to bask in the memories. 

Neil knew how to live without Andrew too well. He didn’t like to fall back to old patterns of self-soothing, that hurt as much as they healed him. Being at Easthaven kind of made him feel like he was falling back to that time. 

He shook himself off and got off the car, following the others. 

Easthaven hadn’t changed much through the years, at least not in appearance. The same washed-down yellow paint on the front door, the same boring trees and shrubbery in the garden on the front, the same metal gates that separated the building from the rest of the world. However, Neil could feel that there was something _wrong_. Night was almost completely upon them, but the usual noises of Palmetto’s nightlife were gone. An eerie silence had taken place, all the lights inside the building that would signify a patient living their lives were turned off—something that the buildings nearby were also imitating. 

Easthaven had never been particularly quiet. Ever. 

They entered the building prepared to fight from the get-go. There were too many signs of _wrongness_ to be ignored. Neil was in the front, because it would be hard for him to ruin the shot of the others with his height. Matt was directly behind Neil, Renee and Dan to his left and right, respectively. Allison and Nicky came right after them, because they were the only ones that actually needed protection, and to close their procession, Roland and Kevin were at their backs, ready to protect them. 

Not for long, though. Kevin and Renee had _actually _come with a workable plan. It was a plan that involved splitting up which was a dumb idea on _most_ contexts, but at least it was a plan that, if successful, would mean they weren’t left completely _fucked_ against who knows how many half-breeds that were inside. 

With a hand gesture from Neil, the group divided themselves in half silently. Neil, Matt, Renee and Dan didn’t change formation but the others broke off and disappeared behind a door to the right. Neil knew that Kevin wouldn’t forget his instructions, but it was still nerve-racking to watch them go. Neil waited for a few seconds, but relaxed minimally when no sounds of fighting made themselves known. 

With a deep breath, his group moved towards the doors that used to open up to admission and discharge rooms. They were completely empty but they still showed signs of _life_, although everything was a mess of papers strewn in every single surface area. 

They kept going through the building, until they arrived at the food court. Neil couldn’t hear anything, but he just knew that if all the half-breeds in Palmetto were ordered to come to Easthaven, this would be the perfect place to put them all. They would fit and they would be able to block the path to the innards of the building—where Neil knew the location of a particular indoor pool that would be enough to make Aaron look as soaked as he did in Neil’s electric chair vision. 

Neil wished this was one of those instances where he was wrong, but he kicked the doors open and was face with a horde of silent, menacingly standing half-breeds. Neil scanned the first line of them for someone in particular, or even a vaguely familiar face, but he found neither. Neil waited for a few seconds to see if they would make the first move, but no such luck. He stepped forward then and his friends followed without questioning. 

If Neil had Matt’s height, he would probably see how fucked they were. As it stood, he was kind of glad to only have a vague idea of it. 

“Half-fuckers of Palmetto!” Neil hollered and it caused some of them to turn stinky eyes at him. Neil didn’t fucking care. “You are violating the balance! Remove yourselves from this building or you’ll be immediately deported. All of you!” 

Nobody even _flinched_ at his words. Some people had the audacity to clearly smirk at him. “Go to Hell!” one of the half-breeds at the back yelled and the room was filled with snickers and giggles. 

Neil sighed but wasn’t surprised. 

Thankfully, neither were his friends. 

Neil fired the first shot of his first gun of choice—a modified machine gun, with an actual blessed barrel. The others followed his lead, spreading out so they could hit rows and rows of half-breeds, that fell down and started to writhe on the ground, making agony sounds as the others half-breeds tread all over them in order to keep advancing. 

It was the kind of stupidity Neil just _knew_ would be particular to half-breeds. Not only forgo any kind of protection against bullets, like a fucking simple bullet-proof vest, but also show up to a fight against enemies they _knew _would have guns with nothing but their bare hands and courage—or idiocy. It depended on the point of view, probably. 

Neil’s gun clicked empty and, while he reached and pointed two handguns towards the half-breeds that were charging him, Matt’s, Dan’s and Renee’s machine guns clicked empty as well. Neil advanced from the wall because now that he was down to his handguns, things would move a little quicker. He had two backup handguns and then they he’d have to change to knife-fighting and hand-to-hand combat. 

There was no time to get nervous, though. Neil needed to buy _time._

The first group of dumb half-breeds came running at him _again_ and Neil shot them without mercy. The ones that followed at least tried to form some sort of formation to confuse Neil’s aim, but Neil shot most of them. The remaining one flinched when Neil pulled the trigger and they heard the tell-tale sign that it was also empty. Neil butted the half-breed one the face with one of his gun that had a crucifix on the butt of it and dropped them to the ground to try to get his other two handguns. 

Unfortunately, one of them got stuck on the dodgy holster that Roland had provided him. Neil cursed as he was left with one single handgun and an empty hand. He blocked a punch aimed at his head and shot the half-breed, hitting the one behind her as well. He threw her body in the path of the half-breed in front of him and had enough time to get a knife—blessed steel. 

He was pretty much relying on instinct to actually defend and attack, but he knew he was getting tired—and _swarmed_. His group was never going to win by having more people, but they clearly at least had the brains and fighting skills. However, Neil knew that if he was flagging, the others would be as well. Maybe not Renee, because Neil remembered how long Andrew would spar against her, but Dan and Matt would definitely be hitting their limits in a short amount of time. 

They would make mistakes. 

Maybe fatal ones. 

Neil wished he had enough of a window to try to get his remaining handgun, but he was fighting against too many half-breeds. He only had to hold out a little longer, he knew it. He trusted Kevin and Roland. They were going to succeed. They were going to succeed. They were going to— 

A sudden, loud _whoosh_ came from behind them and Neil felt his limbs be infused with a wave of enthusiasm. Some half-breeds in front of him flinched away from the noise, but what Neil was really interest was in the smoke that Roland’s flamethrower on Kevin’s hand was capable of producing. 

Enough smoke to trigger the fire sprinkler system. 

The alarm started beeping, but was pretty much ignored by the half-breeds—until it started to rain on them. It took them a second to go through a range of different emotions—disinterest, confusion, apprehension, fear, _pain_, and the screams were overwhelmingly loud as Neil now batted them away without problems. 

“Holy water?” Neil heard one of the half-breeds whimper and then the screams got even louder. 

Not all of them admitted defeat though. They still tried to fight, but it was almost too easy to get rid of them. 

“Go!” Dan yelled at him, and Neil took off running, Renee and Kevin right behind him. Some of the half-breeds frantically tried to hold them back, but without success. 

The others didn’t follow them, but they would soon. Someone needed to get rid of _all _the half-breeds, so that they wouldn’t be suffering a surprise attack. Lucifer probably wouldn’t be happy with so many of his employees suddenly going non-corporeal, but Neil wasn’t after his approval. Actually, any kind of attention they were able to bring to themselves was good. 

So they ran. 

* * *

Renee and Kevin didn’t know the layout of the building, just like the rest of their group, Renee and Kevin trusted Neil and also found a way to leave their path clear for the others: each of them had a broad-tip red marker and they were swiping each corner with red scribbles, without stopping their run. 

Neil would feel bad about having criticized their idling around earlier, but he didn’t even have to think about that. In what felt like an eternity but was probably around 5 minutes, they found themselves in front of the glass doors that would lead them to the fitness center where the pool was. 

Without catching his breath, Neil shoved the double doors open and saw Aaron floating face first on the pool. Neil’s rib cage constricted around his heart and he threw his Bible at Kevin and his guns on the ground as he jumped on the pool. Neil prayed that he wasn’t too late but he had no idea how long Aaron had been in the pool. How long Aaron had fought Mammon, without any training and chance of succeeding. 

Aaron felt cold to the touch as Neil turned him, lips and skin bluish. As if that wasn’t enough, Neil couldn’t feel him breathing. He needed to be out of the water so they could try to revive him. 

Neil hooked an arm over Aaron’s torso and started to drag him. It was stupid how _deep _this pool was, but mostly because they were both incredibly tiny. Neil knew that the part of the pool where Renee and Kevin were crouching near was shallower than the rest. Neil just needed to reach their extended arms, ready to help drag Aaron out of the water. 

He just had to get Aaron to them. It wasn’t that far away. 

And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t be too late. 

Renee’s gasp and Kevin’s yell of “_Neil!” _was enough to make Neil tense. 

It was too late for him though. A pair of pale, frigid arms enveloped his neck and dragged him under. Neil didn’t even have time to properly draw a last breath as Aaron tried to drown him. 

No, not Aaron. 

Mammon. 

The only advantage of this situation was that neither of them had a _natural _advantage underwater. It wasn’t the element that Mammon was most familiar with, after all, Neil… well. He wasn’t a fucking mermaid. 

Neil felt his feet touch something that wasn’t the pools floor, it felt _pointy—_and there was only one thing that Neil knew would be found near Mammon and that was pointy. 

The Spear of Destiny. 

With a few well-aimed punches and a good deal of weaseling, Neil was able to free himself from Mammon and try to swim backwards so he could _at least_ find his footing. Mammon followed him, and both of them surfaced at the same time. Neil lost a few seconds coughing and trying to _breathe_, while Mammon advanced on him, trying really hard to grab Neil’s throat. 

Mammon’s movements weren’t _precise_ yet—he probably wasn’t used to the body yet, which meant that the possession was recent enough. That was good. It meant Aaron had _fought _for a long time, longer than Neil expected. Neil would be impressed by him if he wasn’t busy with _not dying_. 

Mammon made a sudden move forward, clearly balancing on one single leg and Neil seized the opportunity. He took a tiny step forward, enough that Mammon grazed his neck with Aaron’s blunt fingernails—but also enough that Neil could move his leg underwater to sweep at Aaron’s leg. Mammon face-planted on the water, and the few seconds he fumbled to find his footing were enough for Neil to pull Mammon towards him, dragging him the few remaining feet to the pool’s edge. 

“Renee!!” Neil screamed, but unnecessarily. Renee saw the opportunity just as well as he did and was already prepared with a bottle full of holy water, ready to be dumped at Aaron’s face. 

Mammon’s screech sounded painful—a sound too alien to be naturally coming out of a human’s throat. He was disoriented for a moment because of the pain, eyes closed while the holy water rolled down his skin to dilute itself at the pool. 

It was enough time for Kevin and Renee to get a good grip on each of Mammon’s arms—Renee with gloves, so she wouldn’t be lost in a vision—and to Neil to climb out of the pool, dripping water everywhere as he threw himself at Mammon’s torso, sitting on it. 

Renee was controlling the legs while Kevin held the arms. Kevin and Neil locked eyes for a moment and then started to pray together. 

The Latin words were easy to be memorized, and they knew the cadence that the language asked of them. They said the words in unison, and Mammon froze for a second in Aaron’s body and then started to struggle even harder. They kept praying in Latin, even as Mammon jerked under them and made some words come out forced. 

They kept praying until they reached the end—and Mammon was still there, struggling. That wasn’t uncommon, but Neil’s confidence started to waiver regardless. He jerked his wrist so the crucifix he had wrapped around it would drop to be placed on Aaron’s forehead. Mammon screeched once again, loud, shrill and disorienting, but Kevin and Neil ignored it and kept praying. 

They reached the end of the second prayer. Mammon was still there. 

Neil could feel that his confidence was going to get weaker and weaker as they went on, in a time when he should be giving his all. Thinking about how the future of humanity was in their hands wasn’t enough of a motivator, so he forcefully looked at Aaron’s face and tried to ignore all the places where it was wrong. 

_This is Andrew_, Neil said, but that wouldn’t be enough. _This is one of the last people Andrew has ever asked you to protect._

Neil closed his eyes and _really_ prayed, boosted by the desire of not failing Andrew, the only thing that ever mattered to him. 

They started on the fourth round of prayer and Mammon’s wriggles were much less energetic now. It felt like he was slowly losing control of Aaron’s limbs, or as if Aaron’s was gaining them back, because without Mammon there, their fifth prayer was interrupted by Aaron loud and wet-sounding gasp, immediately followed by Aaron almost choking on the water he had inhaled and that was still inside him. 

Neil turned Aaron’s head to the side, because the idiot had been looking at the ceiling with wide eyes. After coughing for five eternities, Aaron turned his face and looked at Neil. His coloring was already ten thousand times better and, when he looked at Neil, the disgust in his eyes was instantaneous and almost enough to make Neil smile. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Josten?” Aaron rasped and coughed twice. “I’m not your dead boyfriend.” 

“That’s good,” Neil said, feeling weak with relief. “I wouldn’t have to save my dead boyfriend like this if he was alive.” 

“Hey, I fought as much as I could!” 

“Sure you did.” 

“You fucking—” Aaron’s tentative smirk was turned into a confused frown. 

“Aaron?” Neil asked, hesitantly, but Aaron didn’t answer. His face just kept going from confusion to discomfort and— 

Aaron gasped a pained sound and fought Kevin for control of his arms again. He raised his shirt when Kevin finally relented and Neil lost his breath when they saw something squirming against Aaron’s skin, stretching it for a few seconds as if looking for a way out. 

Mammon was _still there_. The fucker had just given up control of Aaron’s _head_. 

“Take it out,” Aaron gasped, and grasped at Neil’s shoulders with hands that felt like claws. “Take this fucker out! Take it—” he choked on his breath in but he kept his desperate grip on Neil’s shoulder as Kevin and Neil started to pray once more, much more frantically this time. 

It took three more rounds of prayer until Mammon _really _tested the stretch of Aaron’s skin by pressing his _whole head _against it, clearly trying to reach and attack Neil. Neil punched his face, forgetting about the crucifix. It was a sharp feeling of pain, but he ignored it. 

Finally, _finally, _Mammon stopped squirming. Aaron let his body come back to the ground as he breathed shallowly. 

“Is it gone?” Kevin asked breathlessly. 

“I don’t know,” Neil panted, looking at the smooth planes of Aaron’s stomach. “I don’t think so.” 

“Stop… ogling me… Josten,” Aaron’s voice sounded rough but Neil still couldn’t keep his laugh to himself. 

“Stop trying to make jokes, you’re not funny.” 

Aaron’s lips stretched into the ghost of a smile and he seemed ready to crack another fucking joke but he passed out pretty suddenly. Neil was going to check for his pulse when a sudden presence, not physical but almost overwhelming in its _raw power_, forced Renee to fly away from Aaron’s legs, screaming until she landed on top of _Dan_, fuck, the others had just arrived. 

A little bit too late, it seemed. 

Kevin was the next to be thrown away and Matt caught him. Before Neil could be thrown as well, he pulled up his long sleeves and bared his tattoos for the world, and started to chant the spell. 

“Into the light, I command thee!” he said, changing positions on top of Aaron’s torso to instinctually direct his body to the right place. “Into the light, I command thee. Into the light I command th—” 

Neil was thrown back as well—not as far, just back inside the pool. He spluttered and breathed a bit of water while trying to come back up. He needed to know what was going wrong now, who was the angelic creature who— 

“You are incredibly arrogant,” the Archangel said, because Neil would’ve recognized that voice fucking _anywhere. _He’d dreamt about it for weeks on end. Still, the Archangel let his head fall to one side as he regarded Neil. “Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes,” Neil said, and then gulped. He wasn’t surprised that he was right, but he was trying to do acrobats in his head to try to get out of this situation. Roland had said he should pray, but when the _fuck _was he supposed to pray? “You’re the Archangel from my dreams.” 

“Yes, I am. I can also see that you are not surprised. Sometimes I forget what a nuisance you are, if your pride and smart-mouth. Who do you think you are, inserting yourself into business that do not concern you?” 

Neil thought he would’ve been able to control his temper better, but apparently not. The way that the Archangel pinned him with his eyes, just cataloging his movement as if he was a specimen to be studied was infuriating. It didn’t help that Neil disliked to witness _incompetence_, and there in front of him was a creature with a job and working hard to _not_ really do it. And excusing the murder of people along the way. 

It made Neil _furious._

“Well,” Neil said, climbing out of the pool _again_, much more carefully this time because the Archangel was too close to Neil’s comfort, but still not bothering to hide his snidely expression. “I’m someone worried about the state of the balance, of course. I don’t know about you, but this—” Neil gestured towards a passed-out Aaron, then smiled condescendingly at the Archangel. “—seems like a break of the balance.” 

“An unsubtle way to try and cast your judgment on my actions,” the Archangel scoffed and gave a step towards Aaron’s body. “You and your little friends just destroyed any chance of balance in this city by killing all those half-breeds.” 

“Well, I wonder why we were forced to do that?” 

“Oh, cut me with the holier-than-thou spiel, Josten. You are _no better _than me.” 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not the one skipping on my duties like punishing a half-breed that goes out of the line.” Neil stood up very slowly, and wondered why his friends weren’t rushing over. Was he supposed to be doing this alone? Was the Archangel getting in their way? What the _fuck _was going on?? “I know my purpose and I have no designs on straying away from my path. Also, I’m clearly trying to avoid the end on mankind in the hands of the Devil’s son, while you... What are you _doing_,exactly?” 

“Me?” The Archangel crouched—to touch Aaron, most certainly, but Neil was _not _allowing that. As quickly as he could, Neil drew his gun and pointed it at the Archangel’s head. He didn’t know if this would work, but he had to— 

The bullet left the gun and stopped in front of the Archangel’s face, who looked up at Neil with a _disgustingly _beatific smile on his face. With a gesture of his wrist, the gun was pulled from Neil’s hand and held against his forehead. 

Neil froze. 

The screams behind him were muffled and Neil wished he could turn to look at his friends. To know why nobody was _helping._ The Archangel was probably doing something, but where they safe? 

Where they— 

“Stop worrying about your friends, they’re fine. I just thought you would enjoy a little audience but with some privacy. God knows you don’t do anything if you don’t know you have someone watching over you. You’re such a selfish, disgusting man.” 

“Look who’s talking,” Neil said, spitting on the ground. 

The Archangel made a fist with his hand, and it was enough to drag Neil closer to him. His dark eyes were angry enough that Neil could feel power gathering in them. Almost as if the Archangel was currently wishing he could kill Neil with a look. 

“As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, my motivations are simple. We were been told centuries ago that the balance was the best way to run this little ragtag planet. But after years and years of observing humanity, your high and lows, I’ve reached the conclusion that unless you are _inspired_—by horrors, by death, by excruciating _pain_—every single one of you acts as selfishly as you wish to. We were told that the balance would _test _you and show the _truth, _about how much humanity as a whole _deserved_ the love of God. I don’t believe that anymore. It’s been years and you have not proved yourself worthy _enough._ So I will bring you pain. I will bring you horror. I will make every single human on this Earth show how _noble_ they could be.” 

The Archangel forced Neil to bow down so their faces could be close. It was uncomfortable to watch the gleam of _righteousness _in the face in front of him. 

“I’ll test all of you, so that we can be sure that humanity really is worthy of God’s unconditional _love._ It will feel like a lifetime, but you will be better off after it.” 

“You. Are. _Insane_,” Neil said lowly. 

“No, I’m not. I’m a visionary,” The Archangel smiled as he supported Aaron’s body with a hand on his back. Neil’s body was forced to raise in unison with him. “I don’t have any more use for you, Neil Josten. You already showed me you _are _capable of being selfless and offer yourself to try to save the whole of humanity, or at least some of your friends. But will that be enough to grant you entrance on Heaven?” The Archangel’s smiled turned pitiful. “I doubt it.” 

Neil couldn't do nothing to stop the Archangel's arm from sweeping him away once more. The Spear of Destiny was the last thing Neil’s eyes focused on, the glint of it being lifted from the water forcing his eyes to take notice of its existence, and then he was being thrown far away. 

Too far away, since the Archangel wasn’t nice enough to throw him in the same direction of his friends; instead, Neil imagined that the Archangel’s plans was to make them watch in horror as Neil was forced face-first through a glass door, some walls, more doors, some unidentifiable furniture to finally stop at an altar, looking up at a cross as his body lit up from too many wounds. 

The irony was almost joke-worthy. Neil couldn't help but groan as he finally tried to get out of the awkward position he'd landed in, feeling the shock slowly numb his awareness of his limbs, raising up his head to look blearily at— 

Another cross. A giant, wooden, mocking cross. Neil wanted to be exasperated, but just let his head fall back down since he was too out of it to manage. He could blame the habit of overusing the symbolism on zealotism, but as he laid there, he couldn't help but think back to Roland’s words. There was no hope anymore. Since it was _really _ the Archangel and he could stop direct attacks towards him, Kevin’s plans were obsolete. 

There was no hope anymore, and no place to draw it from. 

Neil looked at that cross and took a deep breath. 

“I know… I’m probably not one of your favorites,” Neil's voice was raspy and almost inaudible but screaming wasn't necessary. It wasn't the volume of your prayer that made it worthy, but your Faith. Neil didn't have much of that, but he had hope that all of this mess, this whole intervention shit that the Archangel was planned? Neil hoped it was all completely unauthorized. And that tattling that was enough to guarantee at least one willing ear. “I’m not even sure if I would be welcomed in your home. However, I beg of you… Send help to us. Don't let the Archangel throw humanity on a fucking apocalypse just to find out the best of human nature, and how many of us really deserve to go to your Holy Vacation House, or somet—” 

Neil stopped mid-sentence when he noticed that the whole-ass Earth was spinning real fucking fast. He frowned, trying to make sense of anything, but the white bursts of light that were spotting his vision made it particularly hard to concentrate. 

Neil felt something warm pooling under his neck, and he raised trembling hands to touch it. Hands that had fingertips dyed and sticky with a very telling shade of red when he brought it back to inspection. 

Neil touched his neck again, and he almost flinched when he felt the uncomfortable edge of an open wound on it. Deep enough that Neil gulped and just knew that it had cut something it shouldn't. Neil's head was spinning too fast for it to be a superficial cut. It had gotten his jugular _at least _nicked, but probably something worse than that. 

How long would Neil survive this? Longer than 15, 20, 30 minutes? Enough to see help being sent over or short enough that he’d finally find out if he was welcomed at the Holy Vacation Spot? 

Neil felt his heart start to race in his chest, which was dumb of the fucking muscle because it would only make him bleed even faster. Neil breathed, in and out, deeply and counting each of them in his head, eyes fucking closed so he wouldn't get disoriented and lose focus of trying to slow his heart rate. 

He couldn’t stop himself from feeling frustrated though. He had survived a bunch of shit and now? Dead because he was sent through a glass door, got a cut on his neck. Bleed to death while his friends would watch the Apocalypse start and possibly die much more horrible deaths than his. 

That last thought was enough to make him stop focusing on his frustration and start feeling desperate. He refused to let this day be the one where he found out if he was actually a sinner, or if his bill was as clean as people seemed to think it was. 

Heaven could have already sent help, and Neil wouldn’t know because he was yards away. The Archangel was at least six rooms away, if Neil remembered the layout of Easthaven correctly, working on using Neil’s dead boyfriend's brother and the Devil’s son to bring the Apocalypse to fruition. 

Neil was trapped. 

There was no way to run. 

But why should Neil put all his eggs in one basket? 

_The cornered rabbit freezes, Neil. _That was what Andrew used to say to teenager-Neil whenever he was forced into an unwanted or situation that Neil didn’t feel sure how he was supposed to react, to _lie. What does the cornered hare do?_

Fight. 

With as many allies as possible. 

“Lucifer,” Neil whispered. “I don't know if you'll hear me. I don't know if I'm one of yours at all. But I'd like to have a chat with you. Offer some good info that might interest you. Would you please grace me with your wonderful presence?” 

Neil took a deep breath but still didn't open his eyes. He strained his ears to hear anything and there was nothing, just a terrible empty silence, no sound of even any kind of far away battles, which didn’t bode well for his friends and then— 

Drips. They were small at first but after a while it was all Neil could hear. Drips thicker than water hitting the tile ground, at first sparsely but soon enough it was a constant sound that grew to almost mimic Neil’s bathroom faucet when opened to its maximum capacity—and then it got _louder._

_Will he flood the place? _Neil thought deliriously. _Also, why water? I thought he worked with fire?_

Then, Neil heard it. The best and most nerve-wrecking thing he could hear right at that time. 

Footsteps. 

Footsteps dragging onto the liquid, making it clear to Neil’s ears that there wasn’t any chance that that was _fucking_ water—it sounded too thick and _sticky_, for some reason. The closer the footsteps got, the louder the _stickiness _of the liquid was to Neil, but also the clearer it was that it brought with it a particular stench. Whatever it was couldn’t be related to water at all, it sounded and smelled _corrosive,_ _deadly_, too _impure_ but what could— 

“I don't recommend saying that my presence is a grace ever again,” a low masculine voice said and Neil froze, and then squeezed his eyes harder. He didn’t want to open them to confirm that it was exactly who he thought it was in front of him. The voice chuckled, low and threatening, and Neil had to swallow a whimper. It couldn't be _him_. “It's been a long time since I had anything to do with grace.” 

Neil completely lost control of his breathing again because that way of emphasizing words—making the distaste clear, the disapproval that preceded the punishment? That was Neil's father's manner of speech. Neil’s more than dead father. 

“Open your eyes, Nathaniel. You did call me here for something.” 

Neil absolutely didn't want to do that. He was fucking dying, for fuck's sake. He wanted to see the good moments of his life, not hallucinate about his fucking dead and abusive father. 

But then, a new voice made itself known and Neil's eyes almost shot open on their own accord. The voice said, “It isn’t your father, Neil. He just often uses your worst nightmares against you. For now, you're safe.” 

It could only be a trick, but Neil believed this voice. This voice had never lied to him, although it had often not told him all his truths, which had never bothered him because all the small sweet truths it had ever told Neil was more than enough. This voice had lulled Neil to sleep, had made him face his worst fears, had been there for him through the highs and the lows. 

Neil opened his eyes and almost wept as he looked at Andrew's face, ate up each detail that he could pick through the haze of tears. 

Then Neil noticed the glint around the irises of Andrew's eyes. 

It was red. 

Neil’s heart squeezed as he tried to understand that his dead boyfriend, the best thing that ever happened to Neil’s life, was apparently a half-breed who worked for the Devil now—who was the only person in the room who just kept grinning and grinning. 

A single tear escaped Neil’s eye. 

“Pull yourself together, Josten,” Andrew admonished him. “We have business to talk about.” 

“Yes, Neil Josten,” The Devil said, still grinning gleefully enough to make Neil sick. It was an expression that he wished he had never been forced to witness on his father’s face. “What is this ‘good info’ that you apparently have to offer me?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
I TOLD Y'ALL AT THE BEGINNING OF THE FIC TO FUCKING TRUST ME, DIDN'T I?????????  
I'll see you on Monday (but let's be honest, its going to be Tuesday's early hours lmaooooooo). I'll also wait until the last chapter is posted to update the tags, so i wont spoil people who kept up with the updates <33333


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
Remember that chapter where I said there was a slight heartache? Yeah, about that..................  
WARNINGS: Major Character Death and mentions of torture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
i'm not even going to make y'all read my notes, but BEWARE: this is a long boi.

Time stopped as Neil looked from one figure to the other—and not figuratively. Neil could feel the blood stop trickling down his neck. The feeling of dizziness was also gone and he felt suddenly more alert of his surroundings. 

It was unarguably something _good_, especially when the Lucifer took a chair out of nowhere, pulling it closer to where Neil was lying down and sitting on it, all the while without taking his gaze from Neil’s face. After a few seconds of impatient feet-tapping though, Lucifer raised one of his eyebrows in consideration and then got up, hooked his hands under Neil’s arms (who tried to ignore Lucifer’s colossal _stench_) and dragged him until he was propped up on the— 

Cross. 

Neil gave Lucifer his best deadpan look, which earned a giggle. 

“I’m just helping you,” Lucifer said, still unable to control his giggling. “That cut on your neck seems a bit deep. You humans are so fragile…! What if it had damaged your spine?” 

Neil arched one eyebrow at him and wriggled his feet in place. “My spine feels fine, thank you for your worry.” 

“Oh, you’re _most _welcome. Anyway, you called me,” Lucifer said as he sat down yet again. He beckoned Andrew over with an uncaring finger and Neil clenched his teeth when Andrew didn’t seem to even think before obeying. It was _wrong_ to see Andrew being so… solicitous. 

Lucifer extended one hand, palm up. Andrew dropped a cigarette pack and a lighter on it. Lucifer smiled enigmatically up at Andrew and messed around with the pack to lit one up. He turned to look at Neil and feigned surprise at how Neil was watching him. Neil hated him just a bit more. “Do you want a drag?” 

“No, thank you,” Neil said, contrite. 

“See, that’s your problem, Nathaniel,” Lucifer said and Neil couldn’t contain the flinch at the name. “You say no too much. How the Hell am I supposed to put my hands on your _fucking _soul if you won’t sin?” 

“Oh, is that why you’re here? I’m dying and this is your last ditch effort to taint my soul? With a cigarette?” 

“I don’t know how you managed to exorcise so many of my employees when you know so little of what is actually in that Damned book,” Lucifer commented and expelled the next breath of smoke right onto Neil’s face. “There are no cigarettes on the list of sins, Nathaniel. But you see, my plan to get you was very simple. And so good.” 

“Oh, do tell,” Neil said in the most disinterested voice. Lucifer employed a joyless, toothless smile back towards Neil. 

“There’s nothing in the world you’ll fight harder for than this man over here,” Lucifer said and despite his best efforts Neil couldn’t keep the blasé attitude anymore. Lucifer looked pointedly towards Andrew, and Neil had to watch him as well. “It’s cute, your _love_ for one another. Absolutely exploitable too. There was Andrew, being punished beautifully in Hell—” 

One of Neil’s teeth made a thunderous sound for such a small thing and Lucifer paused to give Neil a fake astonished look. “Is everything alright?” 

Neil ignored the pain of what could only be a broken tooth and said, “Yes.” 

“Anyway, there we were, torturing Andrew, and he was begging _all sorts _of deals and offering a lot of promises of information, just like you promised me,” Lucifer’s voice got more and more excited. Neil hated that he was fucking _aware _this was a more than obvious plot to rile him up and it was still working so perfectly. Even Andrew was judging Neil from his place at Lucifer’s right. Neil watched him, just watched him as Lucifer kept talking about what happened to Andrew, absorbing as much as he could from Andrew’s calm demeanor until the pain was dulled, and his nerves were less frayed, and Lucifer’s voice was nothing but an annoyed buzz. 

To see Andrew once again—not through the painfully pink-tinted memories or through the torturous revival of his last moments—was the best kind of balm that could ever be applied to the wound on Neil’s heart. Their situation was less than perfect, of course, but Neil couldn’t help but be _overjoyed_ by the chance of having Andrew _there_, with him. Neil felt soothed as his eyes danced all over Andrew. 

Neil was too familiar with Andrew’s expressions not to know he was doing the same thing back at him. 

“Hello? Are you even paying attention to me?” 

“Not at all,” Neil answered honestly and let his eyes go back to Lucifer, with reluctance. 

“Honestly, it’s like you're not the one who _called me _here. May I remind you that I didn’t need to come? And that I also don’t have to stay?” 

Like Lucifer would let Neil die without being sure his soul was going to Hell when he made time run normally again. 

“I guess you do have some more important stuff to do,” Neil conceded gracefully. “Still, you came, didn’t you?” 

“Yes I did. How could I lose this opportunity?” Lucifer got up from his chair once again and he knelt in front of Neil, uncomfortably close. Neil didn’t recoil from the smell, even though he kind of wanted to. “You know, we both have a lot in common.” 

At Neil’s frown, Lucifer huffed and pointed at the cross. “Daddy issues? Remember? By the way, your father is a lovely person. Can’t wait until I’ve broken him enough for him to come out in the world to torment you as well.” 

Neil bared his teeth. Good fucking luck with that. Nathan was many things, but a motherfucker that broke under torture? Not fucking likely. At least not in Neil’s lifetime. 

“Don’t be cute, Nathaniel,” Lucifer said in a freezing tone of voice and Neil had to quickly lock his eyes on Andrew. His first instinct after hearing _that_ tone of voice and those subtle violent undertones was to work hard to make it go away, and that was too much for Neil’s current plan. He needed to appear _strong_. _This is not your father_, Andrew mouthed and Neil really wanted to believe him. “There we go! That’s how I like you: afraid.” 

Neil licked his lips and looked at Lucifer. 

“Oh? I’m so sorry then, but you’ll have to try harder. Sadly I’m not there yet,” Lucifer frowned at Neil’s smile. Neil knew it must have been a smile Lucifer had seen before, on a different face. “Keep trying, though.” 

“I won’t need to try much longer. Your boyfriend is going to help me into getting you in the right mood. You see, this whole pesky dying before I wanted you to almost spoiled my plans. I tortured your boy enough to know that you wouldn’t like it, I made him into a half-breed, something you’ve killed again and again, and I gave Andrew one single task. Andrew, would you like to inform him of it?” 

There was silence behind them. 

“Andrew.” Lucifer’s voice had lost all its teasing quality once again and Neil swallowed dryly as he pleaded Andrew with his eyes, discreetly. He so didn’t want to see what Lucifer would do if Andrew openly defied him like this. 

“My task is to tempt Neil Josten into sinning,” Andrew finally replied, as stoic as he did anything else. Neil didn’t look away from him, trying to copy that stoicism onto himself. 

“Oh, and how are you supposed to do that?” 

“In any possible way I can.” 

“And what happens if you fail to do so?” 

“I’ll be sent to Hell for a while,” Andrew replied and Neil held his breath, eyelids fluttering before his gaze slid to Lucifer, who was watching Neil eagerly. “For encouragement.” 

“So you see, Nathaniel, how you can’t die right at this moment, right? We can’t risk you going to Heaven and missing another few months with the love of your life.” 

Lucifer laughed, a sound so joyful that it felt alien coming out of Neil’s father. However, Neil couldn’t really call that a _bad_ plan, and he could understand why Lucifer was so happy. Neil could be angry at him for this shitty situation and also admit that it _was_ a solid plan. 

After all, Neil had thought that Andrew being dead was enough to make him sin, but he was still clean. He couldn’t hate how he was being given the opportunity to try his best to bring vengeance to Andrew’s death, but... if Andrew was sent back specifically to torment Neil? And he’d be punished if he failed? 

There was no way Neil could survive that. He would definitely try to commit _any _sin, just on the chance that he might end Andrew’s suffering. 

Except there was one major technicality. 

“I imagine that’s going to be hard plan to turn into reality,” Neil said in a low, controlled voice. Lucifer had stopped laughing, but his sniggering was nerve-wracking in the most annoying sense. Neil wished he could kill Lucifer himself, but just getting him to stop sniggering would be enough. “Especially with your son out and about, trying to rule over Earth.” 

Lucifer’s snickers died in a millisecond. “My what?” 

“Oh, you haven’t been informed?” 

“I tried to tell him, but he didn’t believe in me,” Andrew told Neil. “Jean also tried but he’s…” 

“_Persona non grata_, yeah, I know,” Neil sincerely hoped that Jean wasn’t being tortured right now. Neil looked at Lucifer and couldn’t help but laugh at little at his uneasy face. “Oh, don’t look so down, Lucy. It’s okay. You’re not as powerful as your daddy. He probably knew that his grandson was misbehaving here on Earth, but you know how grandparents are towards their gr—” 

Neil was cut off by Lucifer, who shot his hand forward in a blur of movement and grabbed Neil by his wounded neck, raising him from the ground slightly. Neil could feel how Lucifer’s skin on his wounds felt _unnatural _and repulsive, but he stayed still and didn’t fight against the pressure that was lightly squeezing his airways. 

“My son is at home,” Lucifer’s voice was dead serious and much more what Neil _imagined _Lucifer would sound like than anything else he’d said today. “You are lying.” 

“Why would I lie?” Neil rasped, trying his hardest not to cough at the uncomfortable pressure. “I don’t get anything from telling you that so you can help stop the Apocalypse. If you want to check for yourself, you can. There’s an Archangel with your son in the indoor pool of this building. Mammon tried to possess Andrew and that’s why he died, but Andrew has a twin brother, so—” 

“Is this true, Minyard?” Lucifer interrupted Neil, who tried not to openly cheer and how he’d unsettled Lucifer to the point of self-doubt. 

“As I’ve told you a few days ago, yes, it is.” 

There was a pause. Then, as abruptly as he had been grabbed, Lucifer released Neil’s neck, who couldn’t help but cough as his throat and nose were reacquainted with oxygen once more. 

“This is _not_ true.” 

“Well, if it isn’t, then I wonder what they are going to do with the Spear of Destiny.” Neil gasped and acted as over-the-top happy as he could. “Oh, do you think they’ll hunt some of us? Because then maybe you can tell your kid to miss me entirely or let myself work for him. There are some people I wouldn’t mind killing. And then you’ll basically have me! It’s a win-win situation, truly. I can imagine how much more visitors you’ll get with your son reigning him on Earth.” 

Lucifer didn’t seem like he’d heard Neil after he’d said Spear of Destiny. Lucifer was looking at Andrew with a focused expression, clearly trying to break Andrew’s lies under his gaze, but Andrew just kept giving him nothing upon nothing. 

Neil knew that Andrew wasn’t going to look smug any time ever, but Neil clearly had just repeated what Andrew had told Lucifer already. Lucifer looked up briefly and then he approached Neil, almost licking Neil’s face as he thrust his tongue out, tasting the air. 

Neil almost made a joke about how he didn’t know that Lucifer was also the serpent on the Eden’s garden, but he refrained himself. He’d practically gotten Lucifer to believe him and go stop the Apocalypse. No need to antagonize right now. 

“Well, you stay right here while I go find proof that you’re a liar.” Lucifer licked the air once again, clearly didn’t like what he tasted in the air but still got up, moving to the door. 

Leaving Neil alone with Andrew. 

* * *

The first time Andrew came back to Neil and Stuart after running away, Neil couldn’t help himself. He knew Andrew didn’t like to be questioned, but Neil used every single dirty trick he had up his sleeve to ask Andrew stuff—questions that went thoroughly ignored and unanswered. 

Neil wasn’t easily deterred and kept insisting and insisting. Andrew would have to break sometime, wouldn’t he? 

In actually, what almost broke was Neil’s nose after Andrew punched him. 

“My secrets are _mine _to tell,” Andrew hissed while Neil tried to reorient himself from his place in the ground. Neil couldn’t even find his hands to put them up to his nose, to protect it from the throbbing pain. “If you want to know something, try to make it worth my while.” 

_But_, Neil wanted to say. _We’re friends. _

And they _were_. They passed through too much shit while they were stuck in Easthaven to not be _something_ to each other. Neil thought that that meant they could _treat _each other as friends. 

It was enough to make him question everything he thought he knew about their interactions. Neil refused to believe he was näive and they weren’t actually friends at all. 

The time he spent on the same position he’d fallen with Andrew’s punch was enough to make him come to a terrifying realization: Andrew had never _voluntarily_ told him anything. All of what Neil knew about him came from the times Neil relinquished a piece of his own past—and Andrew reciprocated. Analyzing it further, Neil realized that every single thing that he had ever given or done for Andrew had been repaid, one way or another, with something of equal or similar importance. 

_Except_ when Stuart gave Andrew a place to live. 

Stuart wasn’t a parental figure for them, not even close, but mostly because neither of them _let _him be. They hadn’t had nice experiences with parental figures and they mutually and unspokenly agreed to keep it like that—and Stuart _let them_. He left both of them alone in the East section of his giant mansion, and all interactions with him were quick, mundane and pain-free. He also didn’t question anything they wasted the allowance he gave them on, didn’t comment when they broke stuff on his house and didn’t even bother to clean it up and was, over all, inconsequential in the path that they were trying to take as they acclimated to a normal way of living again. 

Had that been too much for Andrew? Neil couldn’t help but let himself be plagued by that and a lot more questions. Had Andrew felt like there was no way for him to paying back something like that, no way to fulfill his mercenary soul? Was that the reason Andrew ran away and stayed away for so fucking long? 

Because if it was, Neil wanted the _throttle _Andrew for all the time he spent worrying about the fucking asshole. He could’ve ignored the debt, like Neil himself was doing. He could’ve _asked _Stuart what he could do to be repaid. Stuart was a crime boss, he’d be able to think of _something. _

Then Neil thought about how Andrew didn’t like to put himself in situations where he couldn’t predict the outcome. And then, not that long after that, he remembered that Andrew was a powerful psychic. Had Andrew seen something in his future that persuaded him to run away instead of trying to speak directly to Stuart? 

Neil would never know, because he didn’t have anything big enough to tell that was a good enough trade. And Neil knew that he would have to play by Andrew’s rules if he wanted to keep him in his life. 

That wasn’t a problem. They were easy rules to follow. 

Well, that was true until years later, when Neil finally realized his feelings and had something to offer. 

They had talked about Andrew’s sexuality, especially after Andrew started to drag Neil to clubs, leaving Neil alone for hours and hours when he found someone appropriately attractive. Neil knew there would be no feelings involved because Andrew didn’t _do _feelings, but that just made Neil feel insincere hanging out around Andrew when _he_ was harboring desires to do soft things with Andrew—who had never expressed his desires towards anything of the sort. 

“I don’t expect you to feel anything back,” Neil said when Andrew just kept looking at him. “I just never felt something like this for anyone and… I felt like you deserved to know.” 

“What do you want in return?” Andrew asked, tight-jawed. 

“Why do you keep running away?” 

Andrew cursed him and was much sulkier than normal, but he understood Neil’s reasoning. Neil had just bared his soul in a level that he’d never done before. Andrew couldn’t do anything less than that. 

What Andrew told him was basically what Neil had already guessed. He didn’t mind wasting one of his truths or something he already suspected, because the point was to make _Andrew_ understand that if he didn’t feel like he could trust Stuart, then at least he could trust _Neil _to know exactly how he worked and not use that against him. 

Andrew didn’t treat Neil any differently after that, and Neil did the same to him. Andrew didn’t mention Neil’s feelings for years, but he’d often stare at Neil when he thought Neil wasn’t paying attention. 

Andrew didn’t stop vanishing after that, but Neil at least knew that he’d always come back. He stopped being anxious any time Andrew wasn’t around, and was able to see how the pauses between their exposure to each other made their reunions much _sweeter _and their hold on themselves as people _stronger._

And then Neil was kidnapped by Riko when Andrew wasn’t around. 

Riko had found a way to mess around with Neil’s future and it just became cloudy for Andrew. Andrew knew that was something that just _happened _to people, and hadn’t felt the sense or urgency until _almost_ too late. He was essential in the search Kevin had organized for Neil, especially since now Andrew was _actively _paying attention to Neil’s actual fate, not Riko’s deceptions. 

After being saved, Neil had to be stuck on a sofa for a few hours each day while Andrew helped him take care of wounds he couldn’t reach on his own. Andrew didn’t have to face only the fact that he didn’t reach Neil earlier, but also the _consequences _of that reality. He had also been forced to quit his exile earlier than he clearly wanted—and needed. 

It didn’t matter how many times Neil told him that he should go since he clearly needed it. Andrew forced himself to stay, looking like he was dying slowly on the inside from having to face his new fate again and again. Later, Neil would be informed that that was the face Andrew made when he had finally admitted to himself that he wanted to try _something_ with Neil. 

It was exactly the same face Andrew was doing in front of Neil after Lucifer left them alone. 

“Hi, love,” Neil said, letting his voice go as soft and fond as it wanted to. Andrew clenched his jaw and didn’t answer him. Andrew never admitted it, but he _liked it _whenever Neil started pronouncing some words in British accent, especially endearment terms. “I do have to say, although this isn’t the… _ideal _way for us to see each other again, at least I won’t have to die with your death as my last memory of you.” 

Andrew sneered but he still didn’t say anything. Neil just watched him for a few seconds. Andrew was tense, but not in a way that Neil had ever seen. It was a kind of restrain that was making him shake, as if Andrew was fighting against himself when he didn’t really want to. 

Andrew obviously wanted to yield, but didn’t know how. 

Neil couldn’t help him on doing anything, especially since he didn’t know why he was feeling like that. 

He _could_, whatever, keep Andrew talking. Or try to. Maybe if he relaxed a little, he’d feel better. 

Neil hoped _really_ hard that Lucifer took his sweet time to reach the pool, took his sweet time to make _time _run back again. 

“Did you see this outcome on your visions?” Neil asked and Andrew nodded tersely after a few seconds. “Is that why you told me to open Aaron’s eyes? He needed to be a suitable vessel for Mammon to fall into the trap?” 

Andrew nodded tersely again, and averted his eyes. Neil didn’t know what to make of that. 

“Did you see Seth down there?” At Andrew’s head shake, Neil frowned. “He didn’t go to Hell, then? Wow.” 

“I haven’t seen anyone down there,” Andrew said and even though his voice held a lot of pent-up energy, Neil still wanted to smile dumbly just because he was _hearing _it again. “I was brought here straight from…” Andrew faltered when he turned to look at Neil who was decidedly less smiley now. Neil had no idea what his face was actually doing, but his vision was definitely getting turbid. “Neil…” 

“Nope,” Neil said and looked up trying to discourage the tears. “I will _not _waste this moment of peace on tears. You are right here in front of me and you were so _fucking amazing_ fighting against Mammon, and lemme just say it’s incredibly ironic that _you_ sacrificed yourself when you always complained about martyrs and I love you so m—” 

“Stop,” Andrew said and Neil bit his lip as he looked back at Andrew, eyes still a little watery but not threatening to spill anything anymore. “Oh, Neil. It wasn’t really a sacrifice. I was going to die anyway.” 

Neil frowned. “Did you see different outcomes for the Apocalypse?” 

“I did, but that’s not what I mean,” Andrew took a deep breath and visibly steeled himself. “Neil. I had lung cancer.” 

Neil couldn’t do anything other than freeze as he watched Andrew approach him, sitting down on the ground with his lips curled back threateningly. Andrew wasn’t happy _at all _about having to give a secret for _free_. Neil wanted to punch the ridiculous idiot and also kiss him senseless. “Were you going to tell me anything?” 

Andrew’s lips curled back harder, and the snarl was _enraging_ but telling. He wasn’t planning on telling Neil. It was obvious to Neil that he was going to let him be ignorant, probably until it was too late. 

Andrew proved that by saying, “The doctor said it was incredibly advanced.” 

He wouldn’t have done any treatment. Neil looked at Andrew’s face and _knew _that he’d decided to just let himself die. Oh, how terribly _convenient _he must have thought his fate was when Mammon came up. 

Neil swallowed at least three angry retorts and breathed through his nose. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me you were going back to Easthaven?” 

“No. I didn’t tell you because if I had, you’d have been with me in the roof.” 

Neil frowned and thought that over. If Neil had ended up in the roof with Andrew, he’d have tried to help him and they’d probably fall together. Neil’s friends wouldn’t have been informed about his death, probably, or they would’ve been told too late to help anyone. Aaron would’ve probably been immediately taken, and no one would know about _him _or Mammon until it was too late to stop the Apocalypse. 

“You did all you could do to delay the Apocalypse? Not to stop it?” 

“Oh, Neil. Sweetheart,” Andrew almost spit the last word as he rested his cold hand on Neil’s cheek. Neil let him take the weight of his head and tried to take the angry endearment to his heart. Andrew almost never used it, and Neil _wanted _it with him forever. “It wasn’t and still isn’t _our _Apocalypse. There’s nothing _we _could do stop it by ourselves. We just had to leave the right opportunities for each side to intervene if they wanted.” 

“Did you see this happening?” Neil gestured to himself. A muscle on Andrew’s cheek jumped. “You did. I don’t survive, do I?” 

Andrew brought his other hand to hold Neil’s face. “I don’t know. You know how my visions are when there are too many variables.” 

Andrew was powerful enough to see _possible _futures, but if there were too many pieces missing, too many decisions that hadn’t been taken yet, then whatever he saw could be not useful. 

However, Neil could see Andrew’s well-disguised nervousness. Andrew might be telling the truth, but Neil could bet his soul that the number of times Andrew saw Neil die was greater than the ones where he survived. 

“What will happen to you?” Neil asked. 

Andrew swallowed again. “I don’t know.” 

“Will he force you to be punished forever if I…?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Andrew…” 

“I don’t _know_, Neil! I don’t have my powers anymore!” 

Neil took a deep breath and stared at Andrew, wide-eyed. “You just _trusted _that we would do exactly as the best case scenario you’ve seen?” 

“No,” Andrew said, digging his hands in Neil’s hair, pulling his face forward. “I trusted _you_.” 

“Love,” Neil almost choked on the word, and then Andrew pulled his face to a kiss. Neil swallowed his desire to sob, because it would _never_ be greater than his desire to give Andrew his full attention, no matter the situation. Neil raised his own hands to Andrew’s hair, hovering and brushing the strands lightly and, after no protests, he finally started trying to bury then in the strands that fell from the top of Andrew’s head, since the sides were shaved short. 

They kissed for what felt like forever, and Neil couldn’t help but feel his world spinning out of control once again. Andrew tried to pull back, but Neil whimpered and tightened his grip on Andrew’s hair—not prohibiting his movement, but hoping it would discourage him. 

“Neil,” Andrew said, mouth still pressed to Neil’s. “I smell blood.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been bleeding a little,” Neil said, dismissively and tried to get Andrew to go back to kissing, but Andrew just took the chance to pull away, ignoring Neil’s upset grunt. 

“I smell fresh blo—” Andrew’s eyes went straight to Neil’s neck once they had enough space again and his entire body became one giant exclamation point. Andrew quickly forced Neil to lie down and then took off the suit jacket and the black shirt, using the shirt to try to stop the flow of blood. 

_Oh, so it wasn’t Andrew’s kiss making me lightheaded, huh_, Neil thought, and then heard Andrew snort inelegantly. Maybe Neil said that out loud, but there was no way of being sure. His head was turning too fast for him to know exactly what was happening. 

“Do you know what Lucifer is doing?” Neil asked and frowned when he noticed that his chin was wobbling a little too much for his liking. 

Clattering, he realized after a few seconds. He was getting _cold._

“He has to make time run again in order to get Mammon from inside of Aaron,” Andrew said and then he tried to drop his suit jacket on top of Neil’s shaky upper body with one single hand. He mostly succeeded. “He might punish the Archangel as well. When I saw this part, everything was incredibly muddled because of the Archangel’s powers.” 

“Hmmmmm,” Andrew shushed him but Neil didn’t pay attention to that. “I wish I could’ve seen it.” 

“Stop talking, you’re making your neck move.” 

“But how will we say goodbye if I can’t talk? We don’t grunt at each other anymore.” 

Andrew audibly choked. ‘We are _not_ saying goodbye.” 

“You’re not a liar, Andrew,” Neil tried to say but his teeth were bashing against each other too hard for him to be sure he had actually conveyed his message. Neil knew that the blood loss would eventually end him, but as long was he was conscious he was fine. However, if he was this cold… Neil knew he didn’t have much longer. 

“Come on, Lucifer,” Neil heard Andrew mutter. “Come back.” 

Neil now kind of regretting wishing for Lucifer to take his sweet time. Neil had told Lucifer that he wasn’t going anywhere, and he _wasn’t—_at least not physically. Lucifer and his penchant for the whole Evil Speech spiel would be the end of him, though, and of Lucifer’s plans. The guy couldn’t get enough of his own voice and he would lose Neil because of that. 

Reaching the conclusion that he was going to die, _definitely_, made Neil reach levels of desperation that he hadn’t before. He could feel his consciousness slipping, little by little, and although it hurt to deprive himself of watching Andrew, Neil had to close his eyes. He needed to focus to try one last time. 

He didn’t want help for himself. 

He wanted _justice_. 

_God_, he thought and tried to grasp at any mental clarity. He couldn’t find it, so he just tried to convince himself he had some and hoped that would be enough. _Andrew might be a sinner, but we both know that his sacrifice was noble and exactly what was needed to save humanity, despite whatever lies he tells himself about _why_ he did it._

_As I’ve said before, I have no idea if I’ll reach your home or even if I’m welcome there. But there’s no one who deserves it more than Andrew. He has never used his powers to be selfish and his sins were committed in order to _protect _other people. He did harm in order to prevent harm from being done to others. I don’t deserve to go to Heaven just because I’ve never sinned. But Andrew doesn’t deserve to be sent to Hell. Ever. _

Neil could feel his brain going offline and coming back online, much weaker. He knew he was going to pass out, so he forced his eyes open and whispered, “Andrew.” 

“Yeah, Neil?” 

“Love you,” Neil said, or thought he’d said. He didn’t hear Andrew’s answer at all, but he didn’t need to. 

Andrew had never needed to tell Neil that he loved him in order for Neil to _feel _himself being loved. 

_God, I know I’m biased, but… At least, save _him_._

And Neil felt himself fade out of his body. The last feeling he was able to register was droplets falling onto his face. They felt warmer than anything he’d ever felt before, even thought he knew that was probably not true. A pair of even warmer lips brushing against his own and then Neil was gone. 

* * *

Being brought back to consciousness—or maybe, being brought back _alive_—was painful, and Neil came back _hissing_ and shaking harder than he was before passing out (or dying). 

Andrew was still close to him, but now Neil could feel the hot presence of Lucifer approaching them on a fast pace, holding Mammon to his chest even though he was squirming around, trying to get away. 

“He’s so ugly,” Neil stuttered out, almost biting his tongue. “He looks just like you, Lucy.” 

“Shut the fuck up, you dumb bitch,” Lucifer snarled and then knelt in front of Neil. “I can’t believe you’re trying to give lip even when you’re this close to being dead.” 

“Gotta be inconven—” Neil unfortunately wasn’t lucky this time and he did bite his own tongue. Lucifer tsked at him but didn’t do anything to heal him. 

With a jolt, Neil realized it was because he _couldn’t. _Lucifer wasn’t powerful, they had already established that. But most importantly, he didn’t have any _Grace_. He couldn’t heal miraculously, he couldn’t bring Neil’s soul fully back. He could stop the time, but he probably couldn’t make it _revert_. 

Lucifer wouldn’t have time to claim Neil’s soul if he let the time run again to take him to a hospital, and he couldn’t do anything that would tip the scales towards his own personal gain. 

They were in Limbo, until Lucifer finally accepted that he’d lost Neil. 

Neil would’ve laughed if he didn’t know that Andrew would suffer the consequences of Mammon and the Archangel’s actions. 

“The Archangel…” Andrew suggested to Lucifer, almost as if he was reading Neil’s mind. 

Lucifer just shook his head. “There’s no Archangel here anymore.” 

Neil wanted to ask what Lucifer had done to him, but they just steamrolled over that, which would make Neil mad but they just started suggesting other things that could help Neil. 

“I could move his soul to a new body,” Lucifer said, considering. 

Andrew’s snort made him frown. “Good luck putting your hand on his pure soul.” 

“That’s still unbelievable,” Lucifer muttered to himself and looked at Neil. “How did you manage not to sin, _ever_?” 

“I’m extremely dumb,” Neil said, trying to shrug. That only made Andrew realize that he didn’t need to hold the shirt to Neil’s neck anymore, so he tried to fix the suit jacket on top of Neil’s extremely shivering body. It did nothing to warm Neil up, and then Andrew raised his upper body and slotted himself at Neil’s back. 

He was so warm. Neil couldn’t stop the overwhelming desire to be comforted, so he closed his eyes and sighed as he let his muscles relax as much as he could. 

“There’s nothing we can do,” Andrew told Lucifer and Neil opened his eyes in time to see Lucifer look like he wanted to burn Andrew to the ground. 

“Knock it off,” Neil slurred, trying to sound menacing and failing miserably. 

“You don’t tell me what to do, Neil,” Lucifer hissed, getting as close as he could to Neil’s shivering face. The fact that Lucifer used his _name _made it all the more unnerving. “You know what else you don’t get a say in? What’s going to happen to Andrew once you’re gone. He _failed_ me.” 

“The biggest failure in right in your arms, I reckon” Neil argued, giving Lucifer the frostiest look he was able to produce. Deep down inside, he couldn’t help but worry about Andrew’s future. There was nothing he could do that would convince Lucifer to go easy on him, and there was nothing else he could do to try to get Andrew _forgiven _by Heaven. 

The sheer impotency made it all the more daunting when Lucifer rose from the ground and started to pace. Neil watched as Lucifer tried to come up with a solution, but it was clear he had _nothing_. He was going to let Neil go and release his obvious pent-up frustration onto Andrew. And there was _nothing_ that Neil could do about it. 

Lucifer’s shoulders bunched up a lot more and Mammon protested wordlessly as Lucifer squeezed him tighter against him chest. 

“This is all your fault,” Lucifer said lowly to Mammon. “I’ll make you pay for making me lose his soul, my son.” 

Neil could see that Mammon was looking worried about that, but Lucifer didn’t even let him say anything—his last rude words towards someone, or a last goodbye to Andrew. Neil felt his consciousness waver once again, and he was probably bleeding all over Andrew, but he had no choice but to let his eyes close. 

And then a light came up from above and made the inside of Neil’s closed eyelids incredibly _bright. _Even after he opened his eyes, Neil couldn’t exactly believe what he was seeing. He’d read and talked to a lot of different people who claimed to have seen Heaven before, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the _cliché_ vibes the place exuded. The clouds looked extremely fluffy, the light washed everything in the most beautiful pastel colors, and Neil wished he could turn to look at Andrew’s face being lit by all that, even if they weren’t going to the same place. 

Neil felt a tug on his midriff, as if something was pulling him and he heard Andrew gasp as well. Could he feel it too? Neil had no idea, but since he couldn’t say anything else to Lucifer—mostly because his body was shivering too much to speak, even though it was being slowly warmed by Heaven’s sunlight—, he resorted to simply raising up his hands and showing Lucifer his shaky middle fingers. 

Lucifer was visibly enraged by that but there was nothing he could do. 

Then, Lucifer’s face started to morph into horror. Neil felt the cold fingers of fear trying to take a hold of him, because what the _Hell _could make Lucifer afraid and after a few seconds… he noticed. 

Andrew was being pulled together with him. 

Towards Heaven. 

The elated feelings that bubbled inside of Neil were overwhelming, but also enough fuel to make him raise his middle fingers even higher as he grinned at Lucifer’s still shocked face. Neither Andrew nor Neil were touching the ground anymore—they were completely lifted now and Neil could feel his body losing its grip on his soul. Andrew didn’t exactly have a _body, _so he was ready. To be sent to Heaven. 

Neil turned his head to try to look at Andrew, and he lost his breath. Andrew looked _gorgeous; _his hair was like spun gold, but still as soft looking as ever. It was enough to make Neil feel tempted to stop antagonizing Lucifer just so he could run his fingers through the strands. Andrew’s eyes were pure amber, exactly like a glass of whiskey being put near any kind of light source, and _absolutely _breathtaking. 

Andrew seemed to be taken aback by how Neil looked under Heaven’s sunlight—his eyes kept jumping from Neil’s eyes to his hair, to his _mouth_—and Neil felt lighter than he had in days. Maybe even _weeks_. It was impossible to put into words the emotional shift of going from no hope at all to going to Heaven together with his loved one. 

Fuck. They were going to Heaven together. 

They’d be together forever. 

Neil had been _heard by God _when he pleaded for Andrew’s soul. 

And then he felt a hand on his right ankle and Andrew’s leg kicked in a way that told Neil he’d also been grabbed. Their progress was halted. Neil looked back down to see Lucifer holding onto them, hands smoking and face twisted in pain. 

“Andrew’s soul is mine,” Lucifer growled. “He was a sinner and he didn’t repent his sins.” 

“He acquitted them when he sacrificed himself to save humanity,” Neil growled back and shook his leg. Lucifer gritted his teeth but didn’t make a single sound of pain. 

“That doesn’t erase his sins.” 

“Clearly, it does.” 

Lucifer _roared_—actual to God _roared _wordlessly. 

“If I can’t have both of them, then neither should Heaven!” Lucifer screamed. “That is _not _balanced!” 

The pull on Neil’s body was gone. He wasn’t dropped, but rather left floating in the air. Neil thought that Lucifer might feel triumphant over it, but he was clearly fighting himself because he was practically _pleading, _and Neil could only imagine how much Lucifer hated himself right now. 

“Send them back to Earth,” Lucifer said, more breath than sound in his voice. “Let them finish their life. Clean the slate and give them a chance to prove themselves. If they are still worthy of Heaven, then I…” Lucifer swallowed and looked like it had a lot of lemon juice in his mouth, because his face contorted in a ugly expression as he finally said, “I won’t protest.” 

In seconds, Neil felt the light start to fade out from all around them. Both Neil and Andrew gasped simultaneously as the light turned on them and entered their bodies, squeezing in through every single pore. Neil couldn’t help but whimper as it worked its way through his veins, moving much faster than his blood and making enough of a ruckus that it made his heart beat faster. 

“You will fail,” Lucifer hissed at them, even though Neil had a hard time understanding the words through the haze of pain. “You will fail and you will be mine, someday.” 

Then Lucifer was gone, taking the black sludge with him and also the putrid smell. Neil put his hand on his neck and felt it was still gushing blood. God had brought him back to life but didn’t cure him completely, apparently. 

Did that mean that Andrew still had cancer? 

Neil felt his chest compressing at the thought, but he didn’t have time to think about it for a long time. Andrew pressed his shirt against Neil’s neck again and tried to lift him from where they were splayed ground. Andrew was clearly still feeling the effects of whatever the Grace had done to him but he pushed through, carrying Neil away from the small chapel. 

“Andrew,” Neil whispered. 

“Shut up,” Andrew grunted, tiredly. 

“Andrew…” Neil insisted. Andrew looked down at him and that was exactly what Neil wanted, even if he hadn’t _know_. He wanted to look at Andrew’s face one last time. Just one last time before— 

He smiled and passed out again, but he still had enough time to listen a choir calling his name. He couldn’t identify each one, but he knew they were okay. 

And they all would be okay from here on end. 

Or… well. For a long time, at least. 

* * *

Neil woke up on a hospital bed, with mirror images of Andrew on each side of his bed, both looking at each other with stony faces and judging eyes. 

“Oh, God,” Neil groaned. Both of them turned to look at him. “What the fuck is Aaron still doing around me? Go away.” 

“Fuck off, Josten,” Aaron growled and Neil looked at the scowl on Aaron’s face and just… God, how did he ever associated Aaron with Andrew? They were twins, but Aaron’s _essence_ made him fucking ugly. Neil turned his nose up and snubbed Aaron, turning instead to stare at Andrew’s face. Who was still _there_ and _looked _alive. 

“I’m going to pretend that Aaron is a hallucination, that’s cool with you?” Neil asked Andrew. 

“Do as you like,” Andrew replied, and his low voice was almost drowned out by Aaron’s indignant, “Hey!!!” 

“Hmm, feel like I’m dead again, with this fucking joke of a ghost talking,” Neil commented. 

“I’ll fucking punch you, Josten,” Aaron poked Neil on the arm, and it was enough to make the IV needle remind Neil of its existence. Neil hissed and Aaron looked apologetic but didn’t say sorry. Neil scowled but it wasn’t like he thought he would get _anything _else. 

“I should’ve let the lower demons take you when we first met.” Neil snarled and gave Aaron his best stinky eye. 

Aaron scoffed, but didn’t bother to reply to that. His phone buzzed, the sound muffled by his pockets. Aaron struggled but eventually he took it out. “Oh. Looks like your friends are coming over,” he told Neil as he read whatever was making his phone buzz and buzz. Aaron sounded weirdly gleeful though, and Neil’s hackles immediately went up. 

“Why do you sound happy?” Neil asked wearily. Aaron just grinned at him. “Andrew, why does he sound happy?!” 

“I told them you traded your soul to Lucifer to get me free.” 

Neil gaped at him. “But that’s not true!” 

Andrew shrugged. “Made them stop bugging me.” 

Neil felt a little betrayed by that. However, as Aaron’s phone buzzed away, Neil couldn’t help but just… watch Andrew’s face. For a long time. He could feel betrayed but nothing would be grander than the sheer amount of _happiness _Neil was feeling. It was a real battle to not let it show on his face. 

Aaron raised his face when Neil didn’t reply and his expression went from glee to disgust quickly. “Oh, that’s… no. You’re looking too happy. You’re so fucking whipped, try to look at least a little angry.” 

“The day I care about what you think of my face is the day I’m ready to have a full exorcism performed on me, cuz it won’t be me inside the body anymore,” Neil informed him and sneered at Aaron’s scowl. “Andrew, could you take out the trash? It stinks in here.” 

“As if I’d like to hang out around you when you’re awake,” Aaron spit back and moved of his own accord towards the hospital room’s door. However, before he could close the door, his eyes crossed with Neil’s. 

The mirth in them made it clear that he understood it was all a joke. 

Neil was more than okay with how they both decided their future interactions were going to be. 

“You’re a fucking clown, Josten,” Andrew said and he sounded disgusted now. 

“Maybe,” Neil replied and let his smile die. He tensed in preparation because he assumed it would be incredibly bad, but… he needed to know. “But I also know when I need to be serious. So… what was the damage of the Apocalypse?” 

“Technically, there was no damage.” Andrew went quiet and watch Neil’s face. He gave Neil a few seconds to digest that and then elaborated. “Basically, the damage was supposed to start only _after_ Mammon had started his reign of chaos. The Archangel didn’t let any harm come to humans. He did make our other allies as busy as possible with fights and anything else he could think of, but in general, only Easthaven was affected by it, structurally. And even then, both sides took care of restoring it.” 

“The patients?” 

“Had been evacuated earlier.” 

“The half-breeds?” 

Andrew glared at Neil. “They are still dead. They did obey orders from an _Archangel_, after all.” 

“So Jean is the only half-breed from Hell currently?” Neil asked, but Andrew wasn’t stupid. He got the undercurrents of Neil’s question with a slightly exasperated look. 

“Yes,” Andrew said in one of the gentlest voices Neil had ever heard from him. Andrew approached Neil’s bed and cradled Neil’s face with both hands, placing a soft kiss on his mouth. Neil closed his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose. Andrew drew back but Neil still didn’t open his eyes. He wanted to sear the memory of that kiss into his brain, he wanted to branded by it. It made him feel warm enough that he thought it would be doable. “He’s also okay, before you ask. Hell will probably move some half-breeds around in the future to make Palmetto more balanced again. But Jean stayed out of that mess, so he was allowed to stay unpunished.” 

Neil took a deep breath. “If our deaths were reversed, does it mean that Seth…?” 

Andrew shook his head and Neil looked away. He had no idea how he would look at Allison. 

“Sweetheart,” Andrew whispered and Neil turned to look at his after breathing deeply for a few seconds. “I haven’t finished yet.” 

Neil couldn’t help but tense up. “Is it the bad news?” 

“No. Neil, there are no bad news.” Andrew shrugged and Neil knew he meant that _Andrew_ didn’t think anything that happened was bad news to _them_. “Well. Except Aaron.” 

“He’s always bad news,” Neil automatically agree. 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Andrew sounded exasperated and Neil tried to hide his smile. From how hard Andrew pinched his side, Neil would guess he did a bad job. “He’s thinking about going out with that despicable woman from your building.” 

“Katelyn?” Neil asked and let his mouth gape open in horror when Andrew nodded. “Fuck, I’ll have to move. I don’t want to constantly cross paths with Aaron.” 

Neil could see that Andrew wanted to keep himself from reacting, but his lip corners were twitching a bit too much for his inexpressive face to be believable. 

“Stop trying to be funny,” Andrew admonished him. “Not only you’ll never be funny, but you also keep interrupting me.” 

Neil mimicked locking his lips and throwing the keys over his shoulder. Andrew rolled his eyes at him, but didn’t comment at all—probably because he knew it would only encourage Neil. 

“The Archangel is human now,” Andrew dropped the bomb and Neil’s eyes widened in actual shock and horror. “Yes, I know, but consider: someone could hire you to beat him up. And you’d be satisfied by that.” 

Neil let himself imagine that scenario. He wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a pleasant thing to image, because it _was_, especially now that the seed had been planted. Neil just wanted to let it grow inside his heart and create the sweetest scenario ever. Neil would love to take the grief he’d been carrying for days and simply pound it onto the Archangel’s body, introduce him to the mortal concept of _pain_, but… 

“No,” Neil said and Andrew raised an eyebrow at him. Neil sighed. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t want it. I really, _really_ do. But we only got this chance to keep our slates free of sin and _we’re fucking doing it_, bitch.” 

“Do you mean to tell me that we’re going to be good Samaritans now?” 

“No, we’re just going to cut bad habits. And take care of ourselves,” Neil frowned and look at the IV on his arm. “Maybe find another job. We’re young and beautiful. Someone oughta hire us.” 

Andrew snorted and let go of Neil’s face as if he was disgusted by him. Still, Neil smiled at him, a tiny hopeful thing not at all fooled by Andrew’s demeanor. But then he frowned and Andrew frowned back when he felt Neil tense up. 

“What?” Andrew prodded when the silence went on for too long for his taste. 

“The cancer…” Neil started and refused to finish, going as far as locking his jaw in the tightest position ever so he wouldn’t be able to end the sentence. It made his broken tooth hurt and Neil winced at the reminder. He would’ve complain that God could’ve fixed that, but… Well. At least he was brought back to life _at all,_ you know? 

Andrew grabbed Neil’s arm and squeezed it. “No cancer anymore,” He said and Neil almost wept from relief. Neil held the hand in place when Andrew tried to pull away. “The doctors now believed they got my results mixed up with someone else’s, but…” 

“You’re clean,” Neil closed his eyes and let his body relax for a few seconds. He had hated the experience of losing Andrew and he wasn’t looking forward to going through it again. He opened his eyes after a few moments and glared at Andrew. “You’re quitting cigarettes.” 

Andrew’s gaze turned calculating. “What you’re offering in return?” 

“Nothing.” 

Andrew tsked disapprovingly. “Neil…” 

“No, Andrew, you don’t _get _it. I’m used to watching you go,” Neil felt himself choke up and gritted his teeth. He would _not_ cry right now. “I’m a runner at heart and I can understand how planting down roots in a single place is fucking hard. But I’m used to watching you disappear when _I know_ you’ll be back. This time, you didn’t. Couldn’t. And there was nothing I could’ve done to help you, because not only you weren’t here, _you were purposefully _leaving me out. I… I can’t stay with you anymore.” Neil took a deep breath when he saw Andrew tense up. “Not if you’re going to go back to all the habits that might kill you _again_.” 

“Are you breaking up with me?” Andrew asked. He was a statue, but his hand was limp. He refused to grip Neil back if he was clearly being let go. 

“Andrew, _no_,” Neil shook the hand he was still holding. “I want you to understand that what I felt when your brother came to my door with your fucking cat to tell me you had killed yourself was just as bad as what you felt when Riko took me away.” 

Neil didn’t want to tell him it was worse because Andrew _had _died, whereas Neil _hadn’t_. Neil was aware that Andrew probably saw Neil die in many possible ways and, from the glint in Andrew’s eyes, he didn’t need to make their pain a competition. Andrew _got _it. 

“What are you asking then?” 

“For you to stop smoking.” 

“For you?” 

“No.” Neil let Andrew’s hand go. “For _you_. But also because I don’t want to watch you kill yourself in front of me _ever_ again.” 

“If I can’t die in front of you, you are not allowed to die in front of me.” 

Neil considered that and then nodded. “Deal.” 

Andrew visibly startled and looked up at Neil. “You can’t promise that.” At Neil’s questioning look, Andrew scowled. “That’s a promise you _can’t keep_.” 

“Well, I am asking you the same from you,” Neil said, shrugging. Andrew scowled harder and Neil sighed. “Andrew, I _know_ we can’t guarantee we won’t die in front of each other. But I want us to stop putting ourselves in dangerous situations.” 

Neil fought to sit up and Andrew watched as he struggled, only moving forward to help when Neil made a head gesture to him. Neil took advantage of the fact that Andrew was incredibly close to offer his mouth to him, asking wordlessly to be kissed. 

Andrew bent a little to kiss Neil and it was much longer than anything they had done until then. Neil wanted to cling to Andrew, but after a few more minutes, he pulled back and looked at every single inch of Andrew’s face. “I want us to keep each other accountable, so _neither _of us end up even a foot away from Lucy again.” 

Andrew frowned at him. “Calling him that might annoy him enough to make an appearance.” 

“Are you kidding me? Do you really think I don’t know how _hard_ Lucifer will plot to find a way to send me to Hell? He’s definitely going to appear regardless of how I call him, but _it won’t be because one of us sinned._” 

“He knows your biggest weakness now,” Andrew pointed out, smoothing Neil’s hair back. 

Neil gave a sardonic smile. “You say that as if I hadn’t made it painfully clear that you’re my biggest weak-spot but... Andrew?” Neil looked deep into Andrew’s eyes and what he had to go through just to have them in his life again. “You’re worth it. You’re _so _worth it.” 

Andrew swallowed and looked away. “So are you,” he conceded and Neil smiled. 

Neil scooted on the bed and gave space for Andrew to lay there. Neil’s friends would probably be arriving at any time now. Neil knew that they would be worried, but also possibly annoyed, loud and overbearing. He knew his friends and he knew that they would probably be kicked out of the hospital for misbehaving, but… they survived _together_. Because all of them worked together. Even when they were working on a hope and a prayer, none of them backed down. 

The Apocalypse might not have been stopped by them, but the Apocalypse would _definitely _have happened if all of them hadn’t been there. 

And if his friends hadn’t been there to help him, Neil wouldn’t have Andrew here in bed, with him. 

Neil closed his eyes and finally let himself believe that this was actual real. 

They fell asleep together like that. 

* * *

At the end of the day, Neil thought it was kind of dumb and obvious conclusion, but it didn’t hurt to be reminded that it didn’t _matter_ if you had sinned or not, if you believed in any higher being or not: Death would indeed come for every single creature in this bitch of an Earth. 

However, Neil would never question God’s decision (or Nature’s decision) to let that shrimp and that jellyfish be _technically_ immortal. Neil’s bill of sins was still clean, Andrew’s had been wiped clean; he _got_ it. Sometimes, some creatures deserved and needed to be given a free pass from the whole Death ordeal. 

Just like _Seth_. 

Neil opened the group chat one day, months after the Apocalypse (and also months and many therapy sessions that Neil had to attend just to be able to go _hours_ without looking around for Andrew, trying to keep himself from panicking when he couldn’t find him) to see everybody freaking out in the group chat. 

He had to scroll back at least 150 messages that were sent _in the last ten minutes _to find a video where a very shaky camera was focused on the image of a scowling, quiet Seth. 

“Am I hallucinating?” Allison in the video asked, voice even shakier than her phone. “Am I fucking going insane?” 

Apparently, she _wasn’t_—or they all were. After being soothed that she was _probably _not losing it, Allison sat down with Seth and he explained that he was a half-breed now. 

From Heaven. Because Seth had no sins as well, other than being an asshole as an adult—but less of an asshole that he’d been when he was younger. 

So, after seeing all his friends being reunited, alive and _well_, Neil had no other choice but to review some of his beliefs. 

Or maybe _elaborate_ on them. 

Yes, he still thought that Death would come to every single creature in this bitch of an Earth—but now he knew that, just like for the shrimps and the jellyfishes, Death would come after some creatures more than once. To some, Death also meant a second chance. 

Yes, he still thought that the shrimps and jellyfishes were freakish creatures. His and Andrew’s situations were _ab_normal, while those assholes were born like that. Neil refused to accept that they were 100% created by a sane God. 

His last new improved belief was that yes, he still believed that anything could tempt him. But he didn’t have any reason to deviate from the path he wanted to follow, and end up on the one that’d send him to Lucy. Actually, he only needed to look at Andrew (or to search for a photo of them, taken by Matt when they arrived at Neil’s hospital room when Neil first woke up to see Andrew and Neil napping together) to remember what was really important. 

And that he had it again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
And now this AU has reached its end!!!!  
Ngl, this was a JOURNEY. There was lots of doubtings along the way, but I wouldn't be able to finish this without the people who ACTUALLY COMMENTED or ENCOURAGED ME. So to agentmidnight, Elyant, sophiesticated22, sofiaottoman, HBx, Marjelle, Pebbli, sir_napsalot, kneeljosten, approximate and of course the usual criminals, Kay, Eli, Blue, Kayla: thank you. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU.  
I'm proud of this one. Genuinely. And y'all had a lot do to with it.

**Author's Note:**

>   
my tumblr is [polzkadotz](http://polzkadotz.tumblr.com), just like here. My twitter is [polzka_dotz](http://twitter.com/polzka_dotz) if that's what you prefer, tho! I talk a lot more abt updates on twitter than on tumblr :shrug:


End file.
